Fifty Shades or More
by Sashadora
Summary: Amber Grey has spent all of her fifteen years living happily with her loving grandparents. But her world falls apart when a fatal accident changes the circumstances and she is forced to live with her intimidating control-freak of a father. Will Christian be able to give his daughter the care and attention she needs or will his fifty shades get in the way? Painting by Ken Browne.
1. Chapter 1

_**Amber**_

I have never been to anyone before but after ten minutes of pure hell I already know that I hate funerals. Everyone is crying and I don't do crying. Especially not in front of other people so I guess there's no need to even say that I feel very uncomfortable where I'm sitting in between my grandma Grace and my aunt Mia. Both of which are sobbing hysterically; it's near impossible to hear what the minister is saying. My dad is sitting on the other side of Mia and she is holding onto his hand. He looks about as uncomfortable as I feel with his clenched lips and tight jaws. He's not crying either. At least we have something in common. But then he's the least emotional person I know, possibly in the whole world. He's never happy, never sad, just distanced and coldly neutral or angry. I however feel as if I'm broken inside I'm so sad. I actually really do want to cry but I can't. I think I must have gotten used to just not do it no matter how destroyed I feel. I glance over at my grandmother again. Well, maybe I don't want to cry _that _much…

…

"Amber dear, will you come here for a minute?"

It's my grandma calling me. The reception is over and we're at home, where I've lived with my grandparents all my life, apart from the weekends and breaks that I've spent at my dad's penthouse. I'm exhausted, I've met so many people who knew grandpa and wanted to tell me what a fantastic man he was. As if I didn't know that, he was my best friend and he raised me when my real father wouldn't have me. I rise from where I'm sitting on one of grandma's impressive antique sofas and go to her where she's waiting in the doorway to the dining room. The caterers are already clearing the buffet and my aunts, uncles and little cousins are all scattered on various sofas and armchairs in the big reception room.

I pull a little on my uncomfortable black wool dress. I hate it, it itches and feels far too warm but grandma chose and I didn't want to argue with her. I think she said it was Chanel, and apparently she thought that would make me like it more. Though it had the opposite effect actually because I think it's even worse to spend who knows how much money on something that will only be worn once and on top of that being uncomfortable.

I walk into the dining room with grandma and there I see my dad standing by the window overlooking the ground down to the boathouse. He turns as I come in and grandma closes the double doors behind us. I run my fingers through my thick dark brown hair, forgetting for the third time today that it's been arranged in a bun and thus destroying the hairdo once and for all. I wonder what this is about, what can there be that my dad and grandma only can discuss with me in private?

"Sit down, Amber." Dad orders with the kind of authority only he has.

I do as he says and sit down on the edge of a chair at the head of the table. I look from dad to grandma as she goes to stand next to him. She has a sad look on her face but of course, she has had that all day. I fidget with the hem of the Horrible Dress. Grandma and dad remain standing which makes me even more nervous.

"Am I in trouble or something?" I blurt out when I can't take it anymore, after two or three seconds of feeling my dad's penetrating gaze on me.

"No, Amber, you're not in trouble." Dad frowns, looking confused. "Why would you ask that?"

I shrug and dad goes on:

"Your grandmother called you in here for us to tell you that you will be living with me from now on."

I have a very hard time believing what I hear.

"Are… Are you s-serious?" I stutter.

"I'm certainly not joking about such matters if that's what you want to know." Dad snorts. "When I leave you'll be coming with me, just get changed and then Taylor will collect the rest of your things later this week. You can go with him if you wish, seeing as you're on spring break."

I'm dumbstruck. The longest I've spent at my dad's immense apartment is ten days, and I can absolutely not imagine living there.

"Why?" I manage to get out and look up at both of them.

Grandma gives me a small smile.

"Sweetheart, I'm moving in with your Uncle Elliot and Aunt Kate." She tells me. "They'll need some extra help with Ava sometimes and they live even closer to the hospital and this house just seems too big now that your grandfather is gone."

"But I live here too." I mumble and stare at her. "What are you going to do, sell the house?"

"It's already been sold." My dad fills in. "To me. I'll be renting it to a man I know who'll live here with his wife and family. It's much better suited for them."

Anger is starting to fill me.

"So that means you must have decided this ages ago." I look at grandma because she's the one I feel most betrayed by. "Why didn't you tell me, couldn't I have had a say at least?"

Dad sighs lightly and grandma smiles sadly. Neither of them says anything.

"Tell me!" I shout at both of them and rise so violently from my mahogany chair that it falls over.

"Jesus, Amber!" My dad hisses. "Calm yourself."

"No!" I scream. "I will not freaking calm myself; this is not fair! How could you do this?" I ask grandma.

She just shakes her head, there are tears in her eyes again.

"I'm sorry, my darling." She just says.

"The hell you are!" I yell and I hear dad growling though I don't care, I just stay where I am a huge table away from them both. "You're not fucking sorry because if you were you would have told me you were planning this. And I don't give a shit if you're sorry or not because I will never, _ever _forgive you!"

I feel like my inside is exploding. Dad is by me in only a second, grasping my arm hard and burrowing his eyes into mine, gray to gray. It takes everything I have to meet his glare. He bends down and talks to me in a dangerously low and quiet voice that makes me shiver.

"You do not talk to your grandmother like that, understood?" He hisses. "Apologize now."

"No." I say without hesitation.

"Apologize, Amber!"

"Christian…" Grandma's voice is calm and soft. "It's fine. Really it is, she's not entirely in the wrong."

They exchange some looks and I turn my glare to my pump-covered feet. I hate those too; who wants to wear heals when there are ballet flats. I feel dad looking back at me.

"Go get changed" He barks at me and gives me a little push towards the door before he lets go of my arm. I refrain from rubbing it where he's held on. "Be ready in the hallway in ten minutes or I'll come upstairs and carry you out."

Without looking at him, or grandma, I scurry out of the room and slam the door. I avoid the gazes of my aunts and uncles, who must have heard everything, and run upstairs to my room. For the last time it seems. I feel a little bad towards grandma because she was clearly hurt by the stuff I said but I don't feel bad enough to apologize. She has hurt me more. I throw the Horrible Dress on my bed and change into another one, a comfortable jersey one that's wide but ties in the waist. It's also black. I put my feet into the first pair of comfortable shoes I find, which happen to be grey converse. I pull on the big soft, knitted white cardigan that hangs on my desk chair and then I only grab my bag with my phone and wallet in it. I have everything already at dad's, for when I come to stay. He has hired some kind of personal shopper too because almost every time I come there are new clothes in my closet, while some old ones have disappeared. I stop in the doorway to take one last look at the room I've had my entire life and my eyes land on the Horrible Dress once more. It takes me a minute to decide what I'm doing and I grab a pair of scissors from the drawer in my desk. Without hesitation, I lift the dress and start cutting, long cuts all over. Then I put the scissors down and just tear. I drop the shattered dress right on the floor and leave the room without looking back again. Wishing for the umpteenth time that I'd be able to cry.

…

**That was the start of this story. The chapters will get longer if you like it so please review and let me know if you do. I haven't properly proof read so I do apologise for any mistakes. I might add that Amber is fifteen years old and Christian is thirty-seven. Ana is yet to appear and for those who are wondering how Kate can be in the story before Ana I ask you to accept that the story is somewhat AU and that I've changed ages and how people met. The basics will still be there however… More to come soon!**

**Thanks for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

Dad is mad in the car back to Escala, the building in which dad's enormous penthous apartment is. I can tell he's mad from how he snaps at Taylor, his driver slash personal slave and how he doesn't even look at me. Just sends e-mails on his Blackberry. I don't mind not being talked to but I start to wish that I had behaved differently back at the house. I hugged everyone goodbye but grandma, whom I ignored and I just stood stiffly as she put her arms around me. Dad, of course, noticed and his face was red as he pushed me out of the house and towards the car.

I take out my phone too and put my earphones on. Using the soundtrack to Pride and Prejudice to block out the outside world. I close my eyes and I must have drowsed off because next thing I know, dad's hand is on my shoulder, shaking me. I blink and pull out the earphones.

"Come, we're here." He says curtly but he looks slightly less mad. I shove my phone back into my silly little black clutch bag and get out.

The elevator ride up to the apartment feels longer than I remember it and once we're up dad and I both stand in the middle of the great room, the one with the amazing grand piano that dad never lets me play. Dad crosses his arms over his chest and eyes me over.

"You understand that I'm quite mad at you, don't you Amber?" He asks with eyebrows raised.

"I've gathered as much." I mutter and stare out through the window rather than to look at him.

"Look at me!" He snaps and I don't dare not to. "Your behavior today was completely unacceptable. Seeing as things have been hard for you lately, as they have been for all of us I might add, I'll let you off with a warning right now. But if you keep this up I won't be so understanding next time something similar occurs. You got it?"

I nod, feeling that annoyance rise within me again. My behavior? Well, what about his? I want to snap something back really, but even more I want to lie down for a while. I haven't been sleeping much lately and last night I didn't sleep at all. If I talk back to my dad now we'll be at it for hours, him yelling the same things over and over and me wanting to either shoot myself, shoot him or fly out the window. Not that I can fly of course.

"Amber." Dad says in a somewhat softer tone. "Answer me."

"Yes dad, I got it." I mumble and he comes closer and gives me a formal kiss on the head while snapping open his Blackberry again.

"I need to go to the office for a few hours." He says. "I should be back for dinner around eight and you're to remain here until then. I'm sure you'll find something to occupy yourself with."

He eyes me again.

"You've lost weight since I last saw you." He says disapprovingly. "I'll tell Mrs. Jones to prepare you something to eat before I leave."

He strides out of the room before I have the chance to tell him I'm not hungry. I growl to myself and start to stomp off to my room. It's a few doors down the hall from my dad's room, on the same side so we have the same view and a door out to the balcony that surrounds the whole penthouse. I close the door behind me and look around. It's just the way I remember it. White walls, some big abstract oil painting in beige, brown and bronze that replaced the Eeyore that used to hang there until I was ten. I did not choose either, but I do like Eeyore. I go to the walk-in closet and step into it. Oh dear lord, it's crammed with clothes that I don't recognize. Everything looks new. I brush my fingers against the dresses on the hangers. Their qualities feel amazing, which only makes me annoyed. And from what I can tell most of it's exactly my taste too. I scowl. Is dad trying to buy me? As if I pretty clothes would win me over! I open some drawers to find pajamas, socks and underwear. All soft, cute and sensibe. Like I prefer. I sigh and walk back into my room.

"Hello, miss Amber."

I let out a little scream and jump up in the air because I didn't at all expect Mrs. Jones to be standing in the doorway.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She bursts out. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She looks so embarrassed, and I feel embarrassed because I got so scared and that in combination with my being tired makes me grin. My grin quickly turns into a giggle and all of a sudden both Mrs. Jones and I are laughing loudly. I don't even remember the last time I laughed and in the midst of it all, it feels so good and well-needed.

"Hi, Mrs. J" I smile at her and wipe my eyes slightly. "Good to see you."

"You too, dear." She smiles back. "I came to tell you that I have prepared you a cream cheese and tomato sandwich. Would you like some pineapple juice with it or something else?"

"I'd love some juice." I say gratefully, pineapple juice is my favorite drink. "But hold the sandwich please, I'm not hungry."

"Amber." Mrs. Jones' said half-pleadingly, half-sternly. "You need to eat; your father asked me to make sure you had something."

I feel like screaming or crying or both but obviously I do neither.

"He's such a control freak." I mutter while shaking my head but then I sigh. "Ok, I'll try a little bit. Did dad ask you to stand over my shoulder and watch?"

Mrs. Jones squirms with an apologetic smile and I roll my eyes before I smile back at her and go with her towards the kitchen. The sandwich is on a tray; it looks freaking huge. Mrs. Jones gets a tall glass and goes to the fridge to fill it with fresh pineapple juice. She puts it on the tray and lifts it, ignoring my attempts to take it from her.

"I'd like to eat in the TV room. Do you like Pride and Prejudice?" I ask as I start making my way towards the room where the only television in my dad's part of the penthouse is. What Mrs. Jones and Taylor have in their quarters I don't know.

"Whatever you want to watch." Mrs. J smiles.

"But seriously, you'll be watching it for a while." I say and try to imitate my dad's best warning voice. "It'll take me ages to finish that." I nod in the direction of the Gigantic Sandwich.

"I love that movie, Amber, don't worry." Mrs. Jones says with a hint of amusement.

I flash her a little smile back and when in the television room Mrs. Jones puts down the tray on the mahogany coffee table while I open the cabinet where all the DVDs are. Dad has a Boxee connected to the wireless so basically I have access to every movie there is without needing either a DVD player or an actual movie. It's awesome that the magic is only a few remote clicks away but mostly I really like the whole procedure of putting on an actual movie. Preferably, I would have wanted a home cinema with an old-fashioned projector and a pianist sitting on the side playing the score. Though I have to admit that the picture on the enormous HD flat screen isn't half bad. The surround speaker system is pretty decent too. I put the movie on and Mrs. J sits down in one huge armchair while I place myself on the couch. I pick on the sandwich and sigh inwardly as I feel Mrs. Jones gaze on me while I eat small bites at a time. Looks like I won't be able to sneak any little bits of sandwich behind the cushions.

...

**I had a really long chapter all typed up but the document disappeared from my laptop so this is all for now. I'm in the process of rewriting the rest though so next chapter should be up within the next few days. It will be from Christian's point of view.**

**Thanks to those of you who favourited and started following this story! Also thanks to you who took the time to review. In reply to your questions: Ana is not dead and she is friends with Kate here as well. however, as I've stated earlier this story is sort of AU and I've changed some aspects from the book to make it suit better with this storyline. The basics are still there though, not to worry!**

**Please leave a review to let me know what you think!**

**ps. To those of you who started reading before the name change... Sorry about that, hope I didn't cause to much confusion!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Christian**_

There wasn't really any need for me to go to the office, as I've had Andrea book off all the meetings I had scheduled for today. The unfamiliar twinge of guilt I feel over leaving Amber alone first thing when we came home annoys the living shit out of me. I should _not _be feeling guilty, I repeat to myself, she was behaving like an insolent little brat and I was just so damn frustrated with her. For the sake of my self-esteem I had to get away to deal with something I know I can handle, and handle well too. Mergers and acquisitions and all the other shit that I earn my extremely decent living from handling extremely fucking well. Much easier than sulky teenage girls who push all my buttons and does that pretty fucking well. I scoff at myself. _Way to go Grey._ Don't even last an hour of having your daughter with you. Never mind, she's there to stay. And it was probably good for both of us to cool off for a few hours. I check my watch and note that Taylor will be here any minute to pick me upp. _Fuck. _I send a memo to Andrea telling her what I need her to prepare for tomorrow's meeting with the leaders of an environmental project I plan to invest in. I send another memo to Ros, demanding some numbers and logistics to be e-mailed to me at her earliest convenience (meaning _my _earliest convenience). I stand up, taking my time to shrug into the black suit jacket I never changed but mentally slapping myself at the childishness of stalling like this. I take determined steps out of my office, and nod briefly at every "Good bye Mr. Grey" that I hear on my way to the elevator. I go down, and slide into the backseat of the R8.

"Good evening Mr. Grey." Taylor says and starts the engine.

I mutter something before I disappear back into my own thoughts. The funeral comes back to me and I sigh at the thought, for the hundredth time wondering how my father could be so fucking stupid. We all discouraged him from buying the damn motorcycle, I most of all. And still he got it and drove around on it probably feeling like a fucking God. And then he crashed, with my daughter on the back. According to Amber the SUV had come from nowhere, and she was miraculously enough almost completely unharmed, save for some glass splinters that had hit her hands. Dad on the other hand was not spared by the full frontal. He was in the fucking ICU for the three weeks that remained of his life and when I heard the first thing I felt was relief. Relief that his pain was finally over and relief that Amber would finally have to move her stubborn self out of the hospital since her grandmother would leave too. And relief that I didn't have to become a murderer, because if dad have made it there's a good fucking chance I would have killed him for taking Amber on the bike. Though I'm fairly certain she begged him, she's always taken far too much interest in the dangerous. Deliberately provoking me for instance. It's going to be hard work, having her with me fulltime. I'm pretty fucking sure that she considers her grandpa more of a father figure than she does me. And up until recently, that's the way I've wanted it. I may be many things but I'm not an idiot; I know I'm not fit to be a father and there are reasons for why I've kept my distance. I always have provided for her though, the important decisions regarding her schooling and health have always been made by me. I know exactly what her grades are, how she spends her free time and who she's friends with. I've had to know those things, for background checks. But lately I've been thinking about what it would be like to fully act the role of the parent and have my daughter live with me for real rather than two weekends a month and longer on breaks and holidays. And now my father's death along with another unexpected event finally made me turn the idea I'd been entertaining for a while now into reality. I sigh as we reach the Escala and I stride towards the elevator while Taylor parks and locks up the car. When upstairs I walk straight to the kitchen area, in desperate need of a drink.

…

"Good evening, Mr. Grey." Mrs. Jones hands me a glass of white wine before I've even asked for one. Hiring that woman is one of the best things I've done. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes; pasta Bolognese."

"Very good, thank you Gail." I take the wine glass gratefully. "Where is my daughter?"

"Sleeping on the couch in your TV room, Mr. Grey." Mrs. Jones says with a hint of a smile. _Yeah, yeah, my daughter is adorable when she's sleeping. _

"Thank you." I tell her again and take a sip from my wine as I start walking out of the room. "Did she eat?" I call over my shoulder.

"Well…" Mrs. Jones hesitates and with a sigh and a roll of my eyes as I stop and turn back to her.

"She didn't eat?" I ask in the low voice that tends to send shivers down the spine of all my staff. Damn, I pay her to take care of things at the apartment and that includes my daughter when she's in it.

"She complained about not being hungry and feeling tired." Mrs. Jones seems unaffected by my tone. I knew she was good. "She didn't look well, so I thought it best to let her sleep. She told me she hadn't slept at all last night, did you know that?"

I scowl at her. She is in no place to be challenging me. I mutter something and turn away again. I'm aware that I sound like a defeated mopey teenager but I don't give a fuck. Mrs. Jones goes back to what she's doing without any hint of being affected by my mood and once again I'm reminded of why I hired her.

The television room in which I spend approximately four or five days a year is dim, the lights turned down to almost nothing. Amber is curled up on the couch, a blanket covering her body and her hair covering her face. I turn the lights up, not fully but significantly, and walk over and stand in front of my daughter. I stroke the hair back from her face and wait uncharacteristically patiently as she stirs and slowly wakes up. She blinks as she sees me and sits up.

"What time is it?" She asks.

"Dinnertime." I snap back. "Come, Mrs. Jones will have it ready for us in a few minutes and I happen to know you didn't eat earlier like I told you to."

Amber stands from the couch and starts folding the blanket. Surely she does it just to try me; I've never seen her tidy up after herself before.

"You didn't tell me to eat." She mutters as she spends an infuriating amount of time getting the corners perfect. "You just said you'd have Mrs. J prepare something."

I take her arm, leading her away from those already perfect corners. This is getting on my nerves.

"For you." I hiss at her. "When I have something prepared for you I expect you to be a good girl and eat it. You have to eat; it's appalling how much weight you've lost."

She flinches and hurt flashes over her face. Fuck. _Smooth, Grey. _

"You know what I mean." I say to Amber as we reach the breakfast bar. I put my almost untouched glass on it and Mrs. Jones immediately exchanges it for some red wine instead, which will go better with the dinner. She places a glass of mineral water in front of Amber, who smiles weakly at her. I take my jacket off and hang it over the back of my bar stool, loosen my tie and unbutton the top buttons of my shirt.

"Let's not argue." I tell my daughter who is staring through the glass wall on the lit-up Seattle, arms crossed over her chest.

"Oh no, let's not." She says sardonically and I almost have an urge to reach out and smack her. Why does she continually push all my buttons? Knowing the answer, I suppress the thought and try to make conversation instead.

"How was your afternoon?"

She turns her face to me with a glare.

"Well, at my grandfather's funeral reception I suddenly found out that I was being moved like some freaking cattle to live with my dad who's never wanted me there before and apparently my grandmother has been in on this plot and going behind my back when I thought she was someone I could always depend on. I shouted at her for the first time like ever and we've never fought before and her husband just died so I feel really bad about it. In answer to your question, my afternoon has not been so fucking great, thanks very much."

She speaks very quickly and I refrain from interrupting, assuming she needed to get this off her chest.

"Watch your language." I say warningly. "And I'm sorry you feel betrayed, that was neither my intention nor your grandmothers. You'd do best to simply let it go. And _call your grandmother. _Tell her you feel bad, apologize. You'd feel much better, and so would she for that matter."

She remains silent, staring at my fork, and I don't have time to say anything else before Mrs. Jones puts down our place. Fettuccini with her heavenly Bolognese heavily sprinkles with arugula salad, cherry tomatoes and parmesan cheese.

"Thank you, Gail." I say, taking a sip of wine before I lift my fork. "Eat." I tell my daughter."

Amber doesn't make any move to start and I groan inwardly, putting my fork back down. _What the fuck now?_

"What's the matter?" I snap harshly and Amber flinches slightly.

"Ehm…" She looks down on her plate. "I kind of don't eat meat anymore."

Mrs. Jones stops her movement as she is wiping off the stove. I narrow my eyes at Amber. This is getting pretty fucking exhausting.

"Since when?" I ask, my voice arctic.

She has the decency to blush.

"I don't know" She mumbles. "A little more than a month maybe."

I'm about to call her bluff when I realize it would be possible. She hasn't been staying with me since that weekend ten days before the accident. She could have become a vegetarian since.

"Well, a month is not enough time to make you sick if you start again now." I tell her. "You'll eat what's on your plate, you're malnourished as it is and this is no time for you to be experimenting with vegetarianism. Eat."

"No way."

Damn girl! I have to work hard on keeping my calm as I say:

"Amber, whatever reason you have for this sudden change in lifestyle, I can assure you it's not necessary. On my insistence, Mrs. Jones only buys free-range, organic and fair trade. And the production of any meat or animal product you'll eat here will have had less impact on the environment than soybeans."

"Maybe I just don't like meat."

"I don't care!" I snap. "You'll eat what's being served to you and that's the end of this discussion."

We glare at each other.

"Mr. Grey?" Mrs. Jones feels the need to interfere, how fucking great. "I'd be happy to cook vegetarian for Amber, it's not a problem." The last part she says more to Amber, who smiles gratefully. He smile dies quickly as I say:

"No." Then I add: "You'll need to eat properly to get your strength back. Once you've regained all the weight you've lost I might reconsider."

"What if I don't want to gain the weight?"

"For fuck's sake, Amber!" I yell at her across the table. "I don't want to hear another word, this discussion is _over."_

She looks intimidated. I don't usually swear in front of her, maybe the F word out of my mouth shocked her into not arguing back. Mrs. Jones suddenly appears to realize she has something else to do and scurries away, clearly uncomfortable. I sigh and go back to my own eating, the food has gone cold but I decide to spare Mrs. Jones from coming back to reheat it. Since my daughter doesn't seem fit for normal dinner conversation this evening, I check my Blackberry to see if Ros has gotten back to me yet. She has, and I'm lost in the information she's provided me with until I finish my meal. I look over to see that Amber still hasn't touched at her food, but is simply staring out the window.

"Amber." She glares at me. "Will I have to feed you like a child or are you going to stop behaving like one?"

"I'm behaving like a child because I won't eat your stupid meat?" She bursts out. "You can't control every little thing in my life you know, just because you decide where I live!"

"Is that so?" I ask tiredly, mentally asking myself how I'll be able to stand this every evening for the next three and a half years.

"Yes, it is so!" Amber screams and rises so violently that she knocks over her bar stool. It crashes down on the floor with a loud bang. She looks at it for a moment and then turns back to me, shaking with anger.

"You need to calm down." I warn her and then lean back in my chair, overlooking her. "Fine then, we can do it this way instead. You're to go to your room and stay there for the rest of the evening. But don't think for a second that you'll get out of finishing your dinner, I will bring it to you once you've cooled off and I don't care if I have to sit with you all night; you will eat that." I nod my head in the direction of her untouched plate. "So you can either get it over with now or later, your choice."

She stared at me, slightly shaking her head as if in disbelief and I raise my eyebrow at her. She turns on her heal and stomps off in the direction of her bedroom. I lift her chair and put her plate in the fridge, feeling the need to cool the fuck off myself. I refill my glass and decide to go into my study to get some work done before I deal with Amber's hunger strike. If I know my daughter right I won't have the time to later.

…

"Right Amber, time to get reasonable." I say as I knock on her door once and enter with the tray Mrs. Jones has fixed. She offered to prepare something else but I forbade her to. Amber is not fucking getting out of this one. My daughter is nowhere to be seen and I frown as I put the tray on her desk. I stride over to the closed bathroom door and knock on it. No sound, I check inside. Nothing. I feel like a fucking moron for doing it but I check the closet and under her bed, Amber's favorite hiding places when she was little. As I rise from the floor my heart nearly stops when I see her balcony door open. I rush out and throw myself on the railings. Nothing out of the ordinary down on the street. I draw a harsh breath, remembering the last time Amber was out on the balcony. _Jesus fuck. _The problem still remains however. I don't know where my angry fifteen-year-old daughter is. Either she has defied me by being somewhere else in the vast apartment or she has left it entirely. I think it's safe to assume the latter.

…

**Where has she gone to? You'll find out in the next chapter! Please review and let me know what you think! Thank you to Kendall777 for your review and to the new followers of the story. I'm glad you found it because for some reason it doesn't show up in the Fifty Shades section. **

**I'll say it again, please review! Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Amber**_

My heart is racing like five hundred beats a minute when I get to my room, I'm so frustrated. I throw myself on my bed, burying myself in one of the huge decorative cushions to muffle my angry scream. I feel as if I'm about to break and I sit up, breathing harshly and hope I don't get a panic attack. I have been getting them since I was little but I've found ways to stop them. When taking deep breaths don't work I can usually push them off by playing long, outdrawn notes on the violin or stroking a paintbrush back and forth over a canvas. Systematically breaking things work very well too, but I haven't told anyone that.

I go to the bathroom and splash some water on my now red face. I try to relax it as I realize I'm still frowning. I walk back to my room and punch the cushions a couple of times. I feel slightly better but I still feel as if I'm suffocating. I'm in desperate need to get out of this fucking place. I know there are cameras in the foyer and outside and no doubt dad has Taylor on watch now. But I happened to discover once that there are some dark areas on the balcony where I might be able to climb down and swing myself onto the balcony of one of the apartments underneath us. I know for a fact that the railings are quite climbable. I walk into my closet to see if there's something darker I can exchange my white cardigan for. I find a black leather jacket. It's soft and smooth on my skin and I love it instantly. I pull it on; it's a bit big but it will do just fine. I rummage through some drawers and find a collection of scarves and I twirl the darkest one, same color as an eggplant, around my neck. I kick of my shoes and pull on a pair of black leggings too, and then put on a pair of black sneakers instead. I walk out, not bothering to take my phone with me but just stuffing my wallet in my jacket pocket. I push open the glass door that looks like it's a part of the entire window wall and sneak outside. I know where to go as I make my way to the far corner of the balcony. I crouch down and stick my head out through the railings. _Yes! _A balcony just underneath and the door into what looks like an office is open. I quickly climb over the railing, hold on to the pole furthest down and start to swing, hoping the people in the apartment down under don't have a surveillance system. I doubt it though; there couldn't possibly be anyone more paranoid and controlling than my dad in the same building. It would implode. Since the ceiling is high, my jump is as well but I've been practicing Taido for years so I'm used to acrobatics and I land on my feet. They just hurt a little. I slip into the office, happy to find it empty. Now to find the front door… I tiptoe to the door leading out to the living area. Nobody is there. I hear a toilet flush somewhere and run quickly across the room to the double doors on the other side. Bingo, luck is with me since I find myself in their hallway. I get out and decide it's worth the risk of taking the elevator since I'm not wearing what I was wearing earlier and since I'm getting in on a different floor than ours. If Taylor sees me on his screens he might not know it's me. I throw the scarf over my head so it covers my hair and shadows my face. My heart starts racing again when I get into the elevator. Dad is going to kill me if he catches me.

…

_**Christian**_

"Taylor!" I bellow as I storm through the door to his office. "Please inform me of how my daughter has managed to leave the building without you noticing her on the surveillance?"

Taylor blinks.

"Is Miss Grey not in her room?"

"If I just asked you what I did, then I suppose she isn't" I snap and put my hands on my hips.

Taylor returns to his professional self and start zooming on all the cameras.

"I've been here all the time, Mr. Grey" He tells me. "Keeping close watch like you asked me to."

I scoff. What kind of idiot does he take me for? He can't have kept such a close watch if that little girl managed to sneak off under the eye of someone like Taylor. I know how good his close watch is.

"Mr. Grey, has Miss Grey ever been in here?" Taylor suddenly wants to know.

Where's he going with this?

"Not that I'm aware but I cannot say for sure." I mutter. "Why?"

"There are some areas of the balcony that the surveillance doesn't cover." He explains. "If she knew what areas she would have been able to climb off the balcony and possibly jump onto the one belonging to the apartment under."

I stare at the screens. _Fuck. _For a moment I'm almost impressed but my fury soon takes over. What the _fuck _was she thinking? She could have fucking died! She is going to get it big time when I get hold of her.

"Trace her phone." I order Taylor in a tight voice. "And get more cameras installed _tonight, _never mind the cost."

"Yes sir." Taylor quickly starts the process of tracing Amber's phone and within a minute, his usually stony face drops.

"What?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Grey, her phone is here. She didn't bring it."

The heart I didn't think I had skips a beat and my fury is momentarily replaced by worry. She could be anywhere, fucking anywhere and I do not like the idea of a fifteen-year-old girl being alone in the city without any communication. Let alone a fifteen-year-old girl who is emotional, sleep-deprived and hasn't eaten. _Shit, shit, shit._

"Call in Sawyer and Ryan. Call my mother, my brother and my sister and any friend she may have gone to." I order Taylor. "The cameras can wait, just find her."

"Will do." Taylor picks up his phone and I leave him to it as I half-run towards the elevator. I have no idea of where Amber could be, surely she can't have gone far? But if it's one thing I know about my daughter is that she is impulsive and that she acts on her impulses far too often. I wouldn't put it past her to hitchhike. I take the elevator down to the garage and get into my Audi R8 since it's the fastest vehicle I own. I drive off into the dark streets of Seattle and keep my eyes out, slowing down every time I see a dark-haired girl Amber's height, probably seeming like a fucking creep to those poor women. I look into all alleys and I get more and more desperate. After an hour of driving my phone rings.

"Grey." I bark into it.

"Mr. Grey, Ryan here." The familiar voice of one of my security people says. "I've found your daughter and I notice on the tracer that you're close by. Would you like to come here yourself or should I take her with me?"

"No, I'll come." I tell him and the relief that rushes through my entire body nearly incapacitates me. "Where are you?"

He gives me an address about five minutes away. I hang up and step on the gas. That little girl is in so much trouble.

…

_**Amber**_

I've been walking for about half an hour when I notice something down a small alley, near a park where I used to go with Mrs. Jones when I was younger and visiting dad. There is a group of five or six boys and they are doing the most amazing things, running towards the walls and doing all kinds of somersaults and backflips back on the ground. I've read about that stuff, I think it's called parkour and I thought it seemed cool but I've never seen anyone practice it for real. I lean against a brick wall and watch them for a while. After about five minutes one of the boys notices me. He says something to one of the others and then starts walking towards me. I start feeling a bit insecure, should I go? But I don't. What does it matter if the guys are serial killers who'll rape and murder me. He comes closer and I see that he's smiling. He looks nice, and is very cute. He looks to be around twenty and he's wearing baggy jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel shirt over it. His wavy hair gets in his eyes and he shakes it off.

"Hi, are you lost or something?" He asks me.

"No." I snort. "I was just watching you guys, you're really good."

"Thanks." He says, raising an eyebrow. "Do you know parkour?"

"Not really, just know of it." I tell him. "But I know some acrobatics."

"Cool." He says appreciatively. "Why don't you come over and join us then? I'm Phil by the way."

He holds out his hand and I shake it.

"Amber. And I'd like to come watch at least." I look over towards the other guys. "But I'm not sure I'll dare try the wall thing though."

"That's ok." Phil smiles "Though I bet if you're into acrobatics and stuff you won't be able to keep from it after a while."

He introduces me to the other guys, three of them around Phil's age and two of them closer to mine. One of the younger guys, Jim, is Phil's brother it turns out. I hop up on a trash container and sit watching them for a while and study their technique. It doesn't look too difficult actually; I think I might be able to do it. Suddenly Phil jumps up and sits next to me.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think you were right." I smile shyly. "I have to try it."

"I knew it." He smirks and stands. "Hey everyone! Amber's decided to give it a go!"

The cheers from all the guys make me blush. They all move away from the wall, watching me in anticipation.

"Thanks for that." I mutter to Phil and slide of the container.

I back away from the wall, looking at it. Shit, I didn't expect to have such a focused audience! I take a deep breath, run… I run a few steps up the wall and do a perfect backflip landing on my two feet with a huge grin on my face. The guys' cheers are unbelievable and suddenly a window slams open and an old man looks down on us.

"Will you hooligans shut the fuck up?" He shouts down at us.

Everyone falls silent for a moment. Then I start to giggle, that old man is just ridiculous. The others soon join me in laughter. The dude slams shut his window and our laughter gradually floats away.

"Well, maybe it's time we switched venues anyway." One of the older guys, Lukas, says with a grin. "I'm getting pretty hungry."

"Yeah, me too." Phil agrees. "Let's get some junk food and go to the park."

The others agree. Phil turns to me.

"Do you live around here, Amber?" He asks me.

"Yeah, pretty close by." I say floatingly, I don't want to give my address to someone I've just met no matter how nice he seems.

"So do we." He says, referring to himself and his brother. "If you want to come with us, I can walk you home later."

"I don't need to be walked, I'm not a dog." I say to him but then smile. "I'd like to come with you though."

His face lights up. I like Phil.

We get some food at a diner and walk into the park; the guys know an area that's a bit secluded, surrounded with bushes. There are a few benches there and two girls are sitting on one of them.

"Hey babe." Lukas says to one of them, a very pretty dark-skinned girl dressed in jeans and a red embroidered hoodie. "Did you get the beer?"

"Yeah." She says, kissing him.

"Amber, this is Sarah and Emily" Phil says, introducing the girls who both smile at me. "Sarah is Lukas's girlfriend and Emily is her sister."

"Who also happens to be my girlfriend." Says Jim and walks over to sit next to Emily.

We sit down on the benches and the guys start eating. I sip on the soda I bought for myself; I'm still not hungry.

"Hey, celebration for your introduction to parkour!" Lukas smiles, handing me a beer.

"Dude, she's underage." Phil says with a roll of his eyes and then turns to me. "You don't have to drink it."

"Jesus, man!" Lukas says with a laugh before I can respond. "It's one beer, won't kill her. I mean, you're like eighteen at least, you must have tried something." He says to me with a wink.

Oh god, they think I'm eighteen! Are they blind? But I don't want them to think I'm a baby so even though I know it's stupid I smile as if in agreement and open my beer to take a sip. It's freaking disgusting and tastes cheap but I drink it anyway, almost half of it before I put it down on the bench with another smile. Phil rolls his eyes, smiling this time and opens his own can. Lukas grins wolfishly and gets back to his girlfriend.

"So… " I say to Phil, who has just downed a cheeseburger in like two bites. "How long have you been playing Spiderman?"

He smiles at my metaphor and takes a large sip from his beer.

"Six years." He says. "I started when…"

"Amber!" A voice bellows suddenly, interrupting him.

The others turn to see who it is but I already know so I don't. _Of course he had to go all private detective and find me._

I'm suddenly yanked up by my arm and dad grasps both of my shoulders, ignoring everyone else there.

"What. The. Hell. Where. You. _Thinking." _He hisses. I've never seen him quite this furious. I start getting nervous but more than that I'm angry that I got myself caught.

"Hi, dad, want to join us?" I say, and I don't know where my words come from.

Dad's face falls but then his mouth turns into a hard line when he sees the can of beer next to where he's just pulled me up from.

"Have you been drinking that?"

What a stupid question, doesn't he notice?

"No, I wrote my name in the grass with it." I say sarcastically and dad shoots me a dangerous look before he turns to the others, who are watching intently.

"Which one of you fucking idiots gave it to her?" He asks. His voice is dead quiet but it still penetrates the cold night air.

"Dude, sir, it's just one beer. She's not even affected by it." Lukas says, his eyes wide. Apparently he is intimidated by my dad and not daring to do anything but speak up. Wuss. And he's not entirely right, I feel a little light-headed from drinking so fast and on an empty stomach. Dad gives him the death stare and he shrinks where he sits. "Sorry."

"Were you the one who gave it to her?" Dad asks and I want to die.

"Yes sir." Lukas mumbles.

"Give your name to Ryan here." Dad orders and cocks his head towards Ryan, whom I notice now is standing a few feet away. "You'll be hearing from my lawyers shortly."

"No dad, come on!" I wail, annoyed by how childish I sound. "I accepted it, it's not his fault. Nobody forced me!"

Dad turns to me and I nearly faint from the dangerous look in his eyes, for a moment thinking he really might kill me.

"You, little missy, are in no position to argue with anything I say or do at the moment." He growls. "Even if you accepted it, serving alcohol to a fifteen-year-old is not acceptable."

"Fifteen?" Phil's disappointed look makes me squirm and I blush, embarrassed that I sort of lied to him.

"Fifteen." Dad confirms. "And if I ever see anyone of you near my daughter again I'll make sure you regret it for the rest of your pathetic lives."

Gee, dad, no need to insult them. I look at Phil, hoping he might see the apology in my eyes but he has turned away. I feel terrible, and sick. What have I done, am I stupid? Before I can come up with an answer to that, dad turns me around and start half pushing, half dragging me towards the car. I stumble slightly because of my dizziness and growling, dad steadies me as we walk. This day has now officially made it to the top of the worst-day-ever list.

…

**So here's another one, and things are heating up. Quite an eventful day for both of them, huh? Thank you for your kind reviews and thanks to the new followers of this story! Special thanks to mkmrider for the info, I had no idea… And you'll be happy to know that Christian will be challenged further in many chapters to come, one of which will most likely be up later today. **

**Hope you enjoyed this one, please do review! **


	5. Chapter 5

_**Christian**_

I call Taylor to have the R8 picked up to ride home with Ryan. I refuse to let go of my mischievous little daughter's arm, because I don't trust her not to throw herself out of the car and run off into the dark again. _Fucking shit. _The relief of having found her is long gone and once again replaced by utter fury. I press my lips together and push Amber into the backseat of Ryan's car, following with my left hand still holding her wrist. I slam the car door shut and tell Ryan to start driving. I clench my right fist; my palm is twitching. The silence in the car is deadly and I reach over to put Amber's seatbelt on. She sighs but wisely enough doesn't say anything. Neither of us utters a word the short way back to Escala and nor do we speak in the elevator. I drag Amber to the kitchen area, where Mrs. Jones is standing in just leggings and a sweatshirt. I finally release my grip around Amber's wrist and she immediately rubs it with her other hand. I feel a twinge of guilt over hurting her but repress it as quickly as it came.

"Sit down." I order her and she obeys instantly. I fill a glass with ice-water from the built-in tap in the refrigerator and hand it to my daughter. "Drink."

She lifts the glass and takes a small sip.

"All of it."

She sighs a little but does as I tell her. I turn to Mrs. Jones, who is looking concerned.

"Thank you, Gail." I say. "That will be all."

"All right Mr. Grey." She says in a tone that's almost scolding. "Good night Amber." She adds more softly. Great, so a disobedient teenager is treated more nicely than her boss.

"Good night." Amber whispers, putting her now half-empty bottle onto the table.

I walk over to a cupboard and get a large bowl out. I fill it with the tomato soup Mrs. Jones has heated on the stove at my request per text and I slam it down before Amber together with a spoon.

"Eat."

Jesus fucking Christ, she does what I say. Perhaps she's finally hungry, or maybe she's just scared of what I'll do if she doesn't eat. I don't give a fuck which at the moment. I lean against the breakfast bar, crossing my arms as I watch Amber eat. She actually finishes the entire bowl without fussing, it's a goddamn miracle. She looks up at me, hesitantly and nervously. _Good girl, you're right to be fucking nervous._

"I'm curious about something." I state coldly. "The last time you played circus artist on the balcony, did I appear to be all right with you doing it again?"

She shudders slightly at what I'm sure is not the most pleasant of memories for her.

"No." She whispers.

"So what the fuck possessed you to do something so ridiculously dangerous?" I really am curious.

Amber says nothing, simply shrugs.

"Answer me!" I snap.

"I needed to get out." She says, still in a quiet voice. "I felt like I was going crazy."

_Well, little girl, keep this shit up and you won't be the only one going crazy. _I scowl at her.

"And you feel that's a valid reason for putting your life in danger like that?" I ask.

"I did at the time." Amber mumbles with a slight blush, indicating that she realizes it was a stupid thing to do. _At least she has some fucking sense._

"You could have fucking died." My voice is tight and harsh. "Do you understand that?"

She flinches at my words.

"And that's not all." I continue, intending to present her with the full list of offences she's committed this evening. "You left the apartment when I explicitly said you were to stay in your room." I start counting on my fingers, keeping my eyes burrowed onto her. "And going into the apartment below would be considered breaking and entering, just so you know. In addition, you left your phone. I've told you so many times how important it is that you're reachable at all times. _You are always to take your phone with you. _And I don't even know what to say about hanging out with a bunch of strange boys. They could have mugged you, taken advantage…" I don't want to think about it anymore but I certainly hope she thinks about it and contemplates.

"But they didn't" She says. Why does she like to provoke me like this? She _knows _what I fucking meant.

"_But they could have." _I bark. "You're not stupid, Amber. You know it was reckless, you don't know what boys their age are like."

"And you do?" She scoffs. _Careful, Amber Grey._

"I used to be one." I say through clenched teeth. "Trust me, I know. And why you decided it was a good idea to _drink _with them I will never understand."

"It was just one beer." She mumbles. "I didn't even finish it."

"'Just one beer'!" I'm yelling now, a last desperate attempt to make her understand. "You're fifteen, you shouldn't be drinking at all for the next six years and even then, it's simply idiotic to drink when you haven't eaten all day, and have not been eating properly for a fucking _month!"_

She finally looks as if what I'm saying is starting to sink in because she bites her lip and looks down.

"All put together, the amount of danger you put yourself through this evening is completely unacceptable." I tell her. "Surely, you must understand how many things could have gone terribly bad because of your 'need to get out'"

She nods into her empty bowl.

"I'm sorry." She whispers, surprising me by being appearing truly contrite. That however doesn't mean I don't have to punish her.

"You will be sorry; I'll make sure of that." I growl. "Taylor!" I call and my ever-reliable assistant appears within seconds.

"Sir."

"Please escort my daughter to her room and make sure she stays there until I arrive."

"Yes Mr. Grey."

I shoot Amber a look and she rolls her eyes at me – how _dare _she? – So much for being sorry. But upon seeing my eyes harden even more she quickly complies.

"Like I'm in prison." I hear her mumble as she turns from me and starts to go with Taylor.

"You're lucky it's not death row." I snap after her and I see her flinch.

That fucking guilt pinches me again. _Too harsh, Grey. _My eyes narrow as Taylor turns and gives me an almost reprimanding look – well, how dare _he? _I sigh deeply once they've gone and make my way to the foyer to go upstairs. I have something to fetch from a certain room.

…

_**Amber**_

I need to pee; I realize when I get to my room, Taylor on my tail. I shrug out of my jacket and slip into my bathroom before he can say anything. Once I'm done I wash my hands but keep the water running as I sit down on the floor, leaning against the bathtub. I bury my head in my hands and take deep breaths because I can feel the panic rising in my chest. I'm so nervous and I almost think that dad _is_ going to kill me, or worse. He was so mad. The tomato soup is threatening to make reappearance and it takes a great effort to keep it down. A few minutes later I feel better, well enough to go back to my room and meet my fate. I close the tap and unlock the bathroom door, almost walking straight into dad's chest.

"Good." He says, sounding relieved. "I was beginning to worry."

_As if. _Dad steps back a little and then I notice it. A paddle. _He's holding a freaking paddle! _Dark brown, shiny wood like I've only seen in my principal's office on my first day at school. The private school my dad has me go to makes a point of discussing ambition and study goals individually with each student at their enrolment, however young they may be. I was six when I was enrolled. I remember asking dad when we were in the car back to my grandparents what that thing on the wall was. He explained that it was for punishing the students when they were bad and I made a vow to myself that day to never be bad at school. I haven't been, at least not enough for the paddle.

"Since you're staring at this." Dad says and raises the Damn Thing somewhat. "I gather you know what's going to happen."

"Please don't" I hear myself say, not knowing where the words come from.

Dad looks surprised.

"You don't seriously expect me to let you off without punishment?" He asks me incredulously.

I blush. Does he think I'm stupid?

"No, but…"

"But what?" Dad snaps.

"You can ground me or something." I mumble and add in a whisper. "You don't have to beat me."

Dad looks completely appalled at my words.

"Beat you?" He spits out. "Amber, I will not beat you, I will spank you. There's a huge difference."

I don't say anything, just look down. I still don't want him to hit me with the Damn Thing. My heart's racing again and I bite the insides of my cheeks hard. I switch nervously from foot to foot as dad crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me with raised eyebrows.

"Amber, it's late so let's just get this over with." He says. "I'll give you fifteen smacks and then we're done."

Fifteen? I start breathing more heavily, dad doesn't seem to notice.

"Go into your closet and take off your leggings and underwear." He orders me. "Don't worry; I'll let you keep the dress down."

He probably thinks he's being nice. I stand paralyzed, feeling faint almost. I can't, I just can't.

"Amber!" Dad snaps, taking me back to reality. "You're trying my patience, quit stalling or I'll spank you for longer."

He takes my wrist and as he starts pulling me towards my closet something snaps in me.

"No! NO, NO, NO!" I scream, tears exploding out of my eyes. In shock, dad lets go of my wrist and I sink down on the floor. Everything comes over me like a nuclear bomb; my grandfather being gone, my grandmother not wanting me anymore and fear of punishment from the dad who never wanted me either. I cry like I've never cried before; hiccupping from my hard sobs and together with my tears comes the panic attack that has been lurking in me all night. I'm shaking as I desperately try to get some air in between my heavy sobbing.

"Oh, god no" Dad murmurs and drops the Damn Thing on the floor before crouching down in front of me, grasping my shoulders. "Amber, breathe." He tells me. "Breathe, baby."

I manage to get some control over my breathing and dad sits down on his knees and pulls me to his chest. I try to push him away and he stiffens but keeps holding me tight. I'm no match for his strength so I give up and just cry into his chest, soaking his five hundred dollar shirt. As much as I hate to admit it, it feels good to be held. I don't remember the last time dad hugged me like this, if he ever has. Gradually my breathing gets easier, even if it's still shaky from the crying.

"Please don't hit me." I snivel, feeling like a baby.

"I won't." Dad assures me instantly and moves one hand up to my head, stroking my hair.

We remain like that for ages and eventually my crying subsides into little sobs. Dad rises and lifts me up in his arms like I weigh nothing and puts me down on the bed so I'm sitting with my back against a cushion. I stop crying but my breathing is still shaky when dad first unties my shoes and takes them off and then pulls at my leggings so they come off too. Gently, he untangles the scarf from my neck and hangs it over the bedpost along with the leggings. He picks up my jacket from the floor and hangs it there too before disappearing into my closet. Moments later, he comes back with a long-sleeved gray nightgown in t-shirt material.

"Put this on." He says, handing me the nightgown. "I'll be back in a minute."

He leaves, picking up the Damn Thing from the floor on his way out. Still trembling, I untie my dress in the waist and take it off. I remove my bra too and slip the nightgown over my head. The material feels soft. I hang the bra with the other clothes and then my dress over it and curl up on my side. Knowing that, even though I'm completely exhausted, I won't sleep for hours. The thought makes me burst into tears again.

…

**This chapter was a little difficult and I was nervous to publish it. Please do let me know what you think and things will start getting a little better in the next chapter. Should be out tomorrow!**

**Thank you so much for reading, welcome to my new followers and thank you for making the story one of your favourites. Also thank you for your reviews for the previous chapter and yes, Amber will most likely be seeing Phil again soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Christian**_

I close the door to my daughter's bedroom and walk towards my own, clenching that fucking paddle in my hand. When I get to my room I throw the damn thing in the waste bin with a bang. Furiously I rip open my shirt, the buttons smattering against the floor and I throw that away too. _Fuck. _Fuck, fuck, fuck! _You're such a shitty father, Grey._ My heart nearly stopped beating when I saw Amber have her breakdown. Knowing that I caused my tough, smart-mouthed and constantly back-talking little girl to cry like that… It nearly fucking kills me. What the _fuck _was I thinking? I know the answer to that of course. I thought it would be like the only other time I've punished her physically, when she was five. I thought I would spank her and that she'd shed a few tears from pain, guilt and some embarrassment but then be fine and never do what she did tonight ever again. I groan as I put a white t-shirt on and change my suit pants for pair of gray cashmere sweatpants. I sit on my bed for an instant, burying my head in my hands. I let my temper get the best of me; I should have slept on it and not decided to punish Amber straight away. I should have let her sleep on it too; her day can't have been that fucking great. I should have considered the fact that she gets panic attacks when under too much pressure. And above all I should have remembered that my daughter is not one of my subs and a consenting adult constantly ready for corporal punishment, but an emotional teenager going through some pretty heavy shit. Whatever she did tonight, no matter how stupid or dangerous, was not merely acts of defiance but rather her way of dealing with her grief. Not that I intend on ever letting her do anything like it again, and of course she should be punished for such stupid behavior, but there are other ways of discipline. I forget that, my lifestyle has fucked me up fifty shades and I start thinking that I was right all those years ago, at twenty-two, when I gave Amber to my parents to raise. I was so sure then that I was completely unfit for raising a child so what makes me think I'll be able to care for her now? _Because you want her with you. _I realize that I do, it's not just because I feel like I have to. I want Amber to live with me because I want to be a real father to her and not just care for her financially. I want this to work. _So make it work, Grey. _I stand from the bed and with determined steps leave the room to go and take care of my daughter, properly this time.

…

I hear the sobs from outside her door and I knock once before I go in. She's curled up on her bed, crying again like when she was little and couldn't sleep or was homesick for her grandparents'. It must be close to ten years since I've seen her cry. Back then I would tell her to calm down and sit by her, working on my laptop, until she did and fell asleep to the clatter of the keyboard. For some reason that seems to fucking cold right now. I stride over to her bed and put my hands on her shoulders, lifting her up into sitting position and placing myself half beside, half behind her so I can hold her to me again. Feeling uncharacteristically ok with that, and so seems she. I don't shush her, just let her cry in my arms, a place where she should have been able to feel fucking safe but probably never has. After a while, Amber's crying has turned to silent shaking and the occasional snivel.

"Seems you needed a good cry." I mumble into her hair and she lets out a little laugh that sounds more like a sob. I let go of my daughter and rise. "Stand up." I tell her and her eyes widen so I quickly add: "I'll just remove your coverlet so you can get in bed."

She does what I say and I swiftly fold back the white coverlet so it folds at the foot of the bed, and then lift the duvet for her to get under it. I drop it over her when she sits down in the bed.

"Wait here." I mutter and leave the room again. I go to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water and some Advil from the medicine cabinet and when I get back I found Amber just as I left her, hugging her knees and looking out through the glass wall. I hope she's not mapping out an escape route or I won't care how much she cries next time.

"Take this." I order and give her an Advil. She takes it and I give her the glass of water, which she puts on her nightstand once she's swallowed. I walk around her queen-sized bed and sit down on top of the covers. Amber glances over at me.

"Aren't you going to bed?" She asks quietly.

"I'm not leaving you alone in this state" I snort. "Besides, I'm not sure whether I can trust you not to skydive from the balcony a second time, as you apparently didn't learn your lesson the first time you did it."

"When I was line-dancing?" Her voice is so soft I can barely hear it.

"Yes" I say tightly, as I don't have much desire to relive one of the fucking scariest moments of my life. When Amber was five years old and went to a circus day camp during the summer, she was dead set on becoming a circus artist and travel around with "tents and elephants". She'd practice everything everywhere and Mrs. Jones had to put child-locks back on the kitchen drawers after she caught Amber looking for knives to brush up on her knife throwing. My mother told me it was the same thing at their house. That little minx broke approximately two-hundred thousand dollars' worth of vases and art that summer but the worst was once when she was here and decided to practice some line dancing out on the balcony. Strictly forbidden to go out there on her own, she did anyway one particularly hot day in August when I had left the door open while I walked around the living area on a business call. Never mind the extraordinary view; I have never been more fucking grateful for the glass walls. Nothing, _nothing _I've ever experienced has matched the utter fear when I saw my little girl tightrope-walking on the railings out there. I simply dropped my phone and threw myself out; I have never run so fast. When Amber heard me coming out she turned and lost her balance. I caught her just in time. She was in complete shock over what had happened and I brought her inside, slamming the door so hard I would have worried the glass might break if I had given a fuck at the time. I sat down on the couch, and bared Amber's little bottom then and there; spanking her while I explained what would have happened if she'd fallen. When I was done she was crying, from the sting as well as realization over how dangerous her little line dancing activity had been. She wouldn't stop sobbing for her grandparents and I ended up taking her back a day early. But spanking her appeared effective that time; she hasn't been on the balcony since. Before tonight that is. I glance over at my daughter, who appears to be reminiscing about that day too.

"I'm going to ask you something and I want you to answer truthfully." I tell her rather sternly. "Did I hurt you that day? And I know it must have hurt when I spanked you, as is the point of punishment, but did I injure you? Make any lasting scars?"

Amber frowns.

"No." She admits. "I don't know, I guess not. But I don't remember everything."

"What do you remember?" I demand.

She keeps the frown on her face, drawing circles on her duvet as she thinks about it.

"I remember almost falling and that you caught me." She says in a monotone voice. "And that you looked so mad. I don't remember you spanking me or what it felt like; I just remember that it happened and that I didn't want to come here for ages after that." She glances at me nervously, as if to see how I'm taking in this information. It takes all I have to keep my face neutral.

"I used to hide under my bed on the day you were coming to pick me up." Amber's eyes fill with tears again. _Oh shit. _"Grandpa used to crawl in and lie next to me, telling me about everything we would do once I came home saying stuff like how it was a good thing I went to you sometimes because it meant I wouldn't get sick of their house as fast." She wipes her tears with the back of her hand, rubbing hard as if they're irritating her. They probably are; she's not usually much of a crier and she never was as a child either.

I am frankly not that surprised that my parents didn't tell me about Amber's distress when it came to seeing me. They've always tried to be some sort of ambassadors for my having a relationship with my daughter. I know that they have been sugar coating that kind of shit since Amber was a baby and always cried when I held her. Eventually I just stopped, to my mother's despair. But why should I bounce around with a baby that clearly didn't want to be held by me, grinning like a fucking idiot while singing children's songs, when I knew the only thing I needed to do was hand her to my mom or dad for her to be happy? Of course, she eventually got used to me enough to start spending nights at my place. But apparently she didn't like that either. No fucking wonder she was upset to hear today that she'd be moving in permanently.

"Why didn't you tell me that's how you felt?" I growl at Amber and she raises her eyebrows as if she can't believe what I just asked.

"I thought you'd be mad at me, and I was scared of you when you got mad." She says matter-of-factly. "And grandma and grandpa used to tell me that I couldn't tell you I didn't want to visit because you'd get upset. I didn't want that either."

She shrinks a bit further in under the duvet as I contemplate what she's just said. Pretty fucking stupid of my parents but I think I know why they did this too. They must have thought I'd give up the arrangement we had, Amber staying with me every other weekend, if I knew she didn't want to. They were probably right, I most likely would have let Amber live there and only there if I had known just how little she wanted to be here. Too late now though.

"That was sweet of you." I say, a smirk spreading across my face.

"What?"

"Not wanting to upset me."

"You've always been my dad." She mumbles, shrugging and then looks up at me. "Are you still mad at me? For earlier?"

I sigh.

"Yes, I am still pretty mad." I tell her because I don't' want to give her any false allusions. "But we'll discuss it tomorrow, it's late now."

"But you'll still punish me?" The whispering tone in Amber's voice makes me cringe. _Pull yourself together Grey, this kid needs to be disciplined somehow._

"I will." I say simply.

"How?"

I look into Amber's eyes. Gray like my own, and full of distress in her hollow face. Her long eyelashes sweep over the dark shadows as she blinks and she looks fucking exhausted, sick even.

"Tomorrow." _Sleep, baby._

"But you won't spank me?" She's blushing slightly. I wipe away an escaped teardrop from her chin with my thumb.

"No." I promise her. "Not if it's this traumatic to you, I won't. Ok? But you're too tired for us to have this talk right now, we'll take it tomorrow. It's been an eventful day to day the least and you need to go to sleep."

"But…"

"Amber!" I snap. "Sleep. Now. Lie down."

"Ok, ok." She mumbles and lies down, rolling over on her side facing away from me. I reach beside me and turn off the lights with the switch that's on either side of Amber's bed. Once it's dark I hear her mutter:

"I was just gonna say thanks."

"You're welcome." I clip back in a gruff voice and add sternly: "Now _sleep._"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She mumbles and in the pale moonlight shining through the glass wall I see her stir under her covers before she settles. I briefly lean over and quickly kiss her temple before I too settle in the bed to wait for her to fall asleep. Quite satisfied to know that my tough, smart-mouthed and constantly back-talking little girl still appears to be there. Never mind how much of a fucking pain in the ass she can be and how much work she'll be. She's mine.

…

**I hope you liked this chapter and please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Welcome to the new followers and thank you for favouriting **

…

**bb-4ever: your review nearly made ME cry ;) thx**

**mkmrider: haha! That would be creepy. Not going there, I promise you!**

**KAYCAD: I think Mr. Grey would agree with you :-) **

**Godlovesebonie: Glad you liked it and that you see his meaning! For me it's a bit complicated to write about this stuff because it's hard to relate to – I come from a country where spanking has been illegal since long before I was born.**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Amber**_

It's morning when I wake up and that takes me by surprise. It's been ages since I slept through the night last time. Of course, yesterday was a lot to handle so I was pretty exhausted. I cringe at the thought of last night, my mental breakdown and that dad was going to hit me. I glance beside me, he's not here anymore. He must have left once I fell asleep and is probably at the office now since the alarm clock on my nightstand shows eleven. I almost can't believe that dad didn't go through with spanking me anyway, when I was little he always seemed immune to tears and tantrums. But panic attacks are different and I'm so, so, so relieved that he could tell the difference and that he was so nice to me. The thought of being hit with that paddle… I'd rather he lock me in a dark closet for a week. I don't really know why, I guess I just remembered how scared I was that one time when I was little. It's true what I told dad last night, that I don't remember the spanking as such but only how mad he was and that I was afraid of making him mad for so long after. It took weeks before I was comfortable going to spend the weekend at Escala and it was during that time I started getting panic attacks. I know my grandparents haven't told dad that and I don't want to tell him either. It was already stupid to tell him what I told him yesterday, that I didn't want to come here after he spanked me. I sit up in my bed, rubbing my eyes as I do. They're still hurting from all that crying, but I feel cleansed somehow. The lump in my throat and the ache in my chest are definitely smaller. Suddenly, a small knock on my door makes me jump. Why am I so jumpy these days? The door opens and dad is there, all businessy in gray suit and white shirt. And not at his office.

"You're up." He states upon seeing me sitting. "I came to check on you. Did you sleep well?"

I nod.

"I'm glad; you could use a good night's sleep." He's speaking in his business voice, like how I imagine he talks to coworkers. "Get dressed and come downstairs for some breakfast; then you and I have things to discuss."

He leaves without waiting for me to respond. Here it comes, time for the talk he said we'd have today. I rise from the bed and with a sigh I go into to the bathroom, brush my teeth and have a shower. I know it's stupid to drag things out but I do anyway, standing under the hot water for ages, washing my hair twice and even shave my legs and stuff. I towel-dry my hair because it takes longer. When I can't stall anymore I mentally slap myself for being a coward. Dad promised not to spank me so whatever sentence he passes it can't be worse. I quickly get dressed in leggings, cotton dress and a soft knitted sweater. I rummage around in the drawers and found a pair of thick knitted socks which I pull on over my thinner ones. Lately I've been cold like all the time. I'm good to go but I spend another ten minutes of making my bed, something I never do and I do it knowing full well that Mrs. J will just snort and remake it later.

…

"Took your time, didn't you?" Dad smiles sarcastically at me when I sit at the breakfast bar. Mrs. Jones is standing by the stove preparing breakfast.

"Sorry." I mutter. "I was stalling."

Dad raises and eyebrow, looking surprised before he collects himself and says:

"Well, I'm glad you're honest with me instead of making up some excuse."

"Made-up excuses are not my thing." I tell him, because they aren't.

"I know." Dad almost smiles.

Mrs. Jones comes over and places a plate of pancakes and eggs and a glass of pineapple juice in front of me.

"Thanks." I tell her and lift my fork with a sigh; I sense that arguing about the amount of food on my plate today would be suicide.

"You're welcome." She smiles gently at me. "Would you like some tea too?"

"Please." I glance at dad, who is reading some e-mail on his BlackBerry.

"I'll take some coffee please, Gail." He says without looking up.

"Of course, Mr. Grey."

I shuffle food into my mouth as quickly as I can muster and it tastes good actually. Apparently my body is hungry even though I'm not. I'm almost finished when Mrs. J comes back with dad's coffee and my tea. Twining's English Breakfast, strong with lots of milk and honey. I've been drinking it like that for ages. Dad nods approvingly once I put my fork down on the empty plate.

"Let's go into my study." He tells me briskly.

He picks up his coffee and my tea and strides in the direction of his home office. I feel a twinge of nervousness and start following him. Mrs. J smiles encouragingly as I go. She probably knows everything about what happened last night, that's embarrassing.

"Close the door, please." Dad says as he places our cups on his huge desk.

I do what he says and sit down in one of the armchairs in front of the desk. Dad sits down at his desk chair and leans over the enormous desk, putting his elbows on the shiny wooden surface and knots his fingers together as he looks at me. I squirm slightly. Suddenly dad leans back, lifts his coffee mug and takes a sip. I'm no longer in the mood for tea.

"Let's make one thing clear first." Dad finally says, his voice curt and businesslike, after what seems like ages. "What happened last night will not happen again."

"Which part?" I ask, not at all sarcastically, but dad still glares at me.

"Well, that you will never ever again throw yourself from the balcony to drink beer with strange boys much older than you is a given." He snaps. "If that ever occurs again I'll need to seriously consider sending you to some sort of mental facility."

I flinch at the thought and I must look pretty scared of the idea because dad softens somewhat.

"You get the idea." He mumbles and then he goes back into business mode : "But I was referring to the kind of punishment I was about to administer. I need you to know that I'll never lay a hand on you ever again. Seeing you cry like that…"

He shakes his head and goes on with a sigh:

"Had I known that you felt so strongly about it I would never even have considered spanking you, especially not after such a trying day. It was rash and inconsiderate and for that I am sorry."

Whoa, what?! I frown as I ask him, just to make sure I heard right:

"So you'll never spank me? Ever?"

Dad sighs before he says: "I know what it's like to walk around in fear that someone's going to hurt you. It was like that for me before I was adopted by your grandparents. I simply cannot, _will _not have you being afraid of me that way, being scared that I'll hurt you. I would never of course, a spanking is, as I stressed last night, not in any way a beating or something that would make any lasting scars and it's still a perfectly legal method of discipline in this country. However, your feelings towards it do matter and the mere thought of being spanked gives you a panic attack then it's clearly not efficient for anything but causing you to hate me and most likely want to defy me even more.

I frown, feeling uncomfortable and babyish. I don't know what it is about spankings that makes me so scared; I know I can take pain since I've broken all sorts of body parts while practicing Taido. And a few times slicing bread but I could never tell dad that. I disappear into my own world for a few seconds before dad's business voice makes me snap out of it:

"So in answer to your question, Amber" he says. "No, I'll never spank you or in any way corporally punish you. Does that make you feel safer?"

"No." I tell him without hesitation and he looks totally puzzled so I add, muttering: "You didn't say you wouldn't kill me."

Dad looks surprised for a moment but then let's out a snorting laugh.

"Well" He smiles sardonically. "I'm not likely to kill you but I can't make any promises there."

My lips twitch a little but I don't have it in me to smile. All of a sudden, I'm tired again. Most of all I'd like to go back to bed.

"Amber." Dad sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair. "Of course I won't kill you."

He finishes his coffee. I still haven't started on my tea; I guess it's probably cold now. I hate cold tea. Dad keeps talking:

"But I need to make sure there are consequences to what you did yesterday. It's not acceptable for you to put yourself in that kind of danger, and I can't even begin to tell you how angry I am that you simply left without telling anyone and without your phone. Not to mention that you were already supposed to stay in your room. You do understand how wrong all of that was, don't you?"

I nod because I do, I really do. I just didn't think last night, that happens sometimes.

"I know you were upset, that you still are, over your grandfather and the change of your living arrangement." Dad goes on. "But you need to learn to think before you act so I'll give you the opportunity to do just that. I'll take you up on your suggestion actually; you're grounded for the rest of spring break."

That's long… But I can live with it I suppose; I wasn't exactly planning on heading out much anyway. Especially not after last night.

"And during this time" Dad adds. _Oh, there's more._ "You'll be on a special schedule. You're accompany me to every appointment I have with my personal trainer and while I work with him you'll be sitting in the meditation room at his gym. You'll get the time to think in a cool empty room without any distractions. However, it's your choice if you really do want to meditate, it might work for you to free your mind completely. It would definitely be beneficial for you but meditation has never worked for me, so I won't be angry with you if you don't succeed."

Gee, thanks. I roll my eyes and notice dad's narrow.

"Sorry." I mutter.

"I'm not done." He snaps. "You will not have access to any electronics while you're grounded. You won't need your phone, I'll be taking care of your laptop and I'll make sure Mrs. Jones keeps the door to the television room locked. You'll be allowed to read books from a list that I sent Taylor out to get and you can always assist Mrs. Jones if you need something to occupy yourself with."

"What about the violin?" I ask anxiously, because I have to practice every day. "And painting?" I add. I keep my fingers crossed for dad to have mercy on me.

He eyes me closely.

"That's fine" He then says and I breathe out. "But one more thing; if you fail to behave yourself I'll add to your grounding. Just so you know."

No escaping this. I should have expected it. Dad claps his hands, as if concluding a meeting.

"Ok, Amber." He says. "Does this sound fair to you?"

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"You're _asking _me?"

Dad rolls his eyes.

"Yes Amber, I'm asking you if you understand why this needs to be." He raises his eyebrows. "If you think it unfair than you clearly haven't grasped the severity of your misdeeds yesterday. And then I shall have to explain it to you, because no punishment is efficient if you don't understand why it's administered."

"Did you read that in a parenting book?" I ask before I can stop myself and dad's eyes narrow.

"Sorry!" I say quickly. "I do understand, I guess you're being fair."

"You guess?" Dad raises an eyebrow again.

"You're being fair." I mumble.

"You do realize you brought this upon yourself?"

"Yes."

"And that I only have your best interest at heart?" He burrows his eyes into mine and his gray eyes are dark.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I nod with a little sigh. He's so persistent.

"Very well." Dad stands up and walks around the desk. "As it happens, I have an appointment with Claude in half an hour."

He takes my arm and pulls me out of the chair.

"Ehm, dad?" I gaze down at my shoes. Wine red converse, matching my sweater perfectly.

"Yes, Amber?" Dad let's go of my arm and puts his hand on his hips.

"Is the sentence to be carried out immediately?" I ask, glancing up at him.

"Well, yes." He looks amused at my choice of words. "Why?"

"I'd like to make a phone call." I murmur. "To grandma."

"Oh?" Dad's eyes narrow.

Why is he so edgy about that? Yesterday, he wanted me to call her!

"Yeah." I say insecurely. "To apologize for… You know."

"Oh." Dad says again and his expression is instantly more relaxed. "Of course, that's fine. Use my phone."

He reaches into the pocket of his gray suit jacket and fishes out his BlackBerry, presses a few buttons before handing it to me.

"It's ringing." He says. "I'll give you some privacy."

Obviously he wouldn't let me phone myself. Damn control-freak. I only hear one ring before my grandmother's voice yells at me.

"Christian! Why didn't you call back last night, I was so…"

"Grandma, it's Amber." I interrupt because I think I've heard enough yelling for at least a week. I realize she might yell at me too. Oops.

"Amber, darling." Her voice softens instead. "I'm sorry, I thought it was your father. I was so worried about you last night, I got a call from Taylor who said you were home safe but I asked Christian to call me too."

"He was a little busy." I explain. "With me, I had a panic attack again."

I don't need to tell her what triggered it; she can pick and choose from all the things she does know happened yesterday.

"Oh, honey." She sighs. "You'll have to start seeing someone about those again; don't think I haven't noticed that they've been coming more frequently lately."

"I don't" I assure her, muttering again and quickly change the subject. "That wasn't why I called you actually… Um…" For thinking them very important when they are needed, I'm not very good at apologies. "I'm sorry about yesterday…" I mumble. "For yelling at you and everything, you haven't done anything wrong."

I think I hear her let out a little sob in the other end but I could be wrong.

"Amber." She says softly. "Thank you for your apology but it's already forgiven. We should have discussed this with you earlier. But really am certain that living with your father will be for the best, just give it a chance and get used to it. And you are welcome to come and visit me here at Kate and Elliott's as often as you like, maybe a few days next week when you're still on break?"

I chuckle joylessly and play around with all the paperwork in their tidy piles on dad's desk.

"I can't, grandma." I tell her. "I'm grounded for the rest of the break."

"Oh, I see." Her voice is suddenly a little harsh. "Well, I'll see if I can persuade your father somehow."

"I wouldn't count on it." I sigh and pull at a purple file that separates itself from all the white and brown. "But thanks for wanting to try."

"Anytime, Amber dear." I hear grandma's smile. "Let's talk soon; I'll call you this evening."

"My phone is confiscated."

I can almost see her rolling her eyes.

"What did you do last night?" She asks with a little sigh. "I'll see what I can do about that, a girl should be allowed to talk to her grandmother for pity's sake. Thank you so much for calling, Amber. I can't tell you how happy I am that you did, I died a thousand deaths yesterday."

Guilt washes over me like a tsunami. I run my fingers over the purple file; it says Leila on it. Who is Leila?

"I'm really sorry." I tell grandma again.

"Don't worry now. I love you Amber" She says.

"Love you too." I say quickly. "Bye, grandma."

"Goodbye, darling."

I hang up and open the file. On the first page there's a picture of a woman, the photograph looks older like it was taken a while ago. She could be like twenty and her hair is dark brown. She's pretty. I turn the pages and find a birth certificate; her surname is Williams. Her initials L. W. That seems familiar for some reason but I can't place it. I move on and find all sorts of things, background checks and addresses and then a medical journal. Jeez, this girl has been to a lot of institutions and centers. I flip back to the background check. Says she's married and lives in Connecticut and that she's an artist. An artist, huh? Suddenly it dawns on me, the painting in my room. In the down right corner there are those initials, L.W. Could Leila Williams have painted that? But why does dad have all this information on her, he wouldn't need that from buying a freaking painting by her! I snap out of it when I hear footsteps outside so I quickly close the file and push it back into the pile. I stand up and grab the phone so it looks like I just hung up and that very moment dad opens the door, looking irritated.

"Aren't you done yet?" He asks.

"Just hung up." I mumble and slip by him out of the office. He's holding a sports bag and looks at me oddly but says nothing more about it.

"Let's go." He says, grabbing onto my arm but not hard.

I walk with him, determined to find out more about who this Leila Williams is. Dad didn't say I couldn't play private detective while being grounded.

…

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	8. Chapter 8

_**Christian**_

"We're having dinner at Kate and Elliott's tonight." I announce to Amber at breakfast. She's been grounded for three days now and so far has made no fuss about it, much to my relief as well as satisfaction.

"What, I can come?" Amber frowns at me. "I thought I was grounded."

"Your grandmother was insistent." I say tightly. "I'm surprised she didn't mention anything to you last night"

I don't tell her that I don't particularly want to go without her. My mother called me on the Tuesday; a few hours after Amber called her and apologized, and scolded me like I was a fucking brawly teenager again. Yelling at me over the phone for being too hard on Amber during a difficult time in her life and ordering me to let her speak with her on the phone once every evening. Nobody, _nobody, _other than Grace Trevelyan-Grey would ever be able to persuade me to go back on my decisions like that. I did it partly for her too; I know she misses her granddaughter and does not want to be cut off from her life. Amber picks at her scrambled eggs and salmon. On my mother's professional and parental recommendation I agreed to let Amber keep of red meat and pork as long as she went back to eating fish and poultry. Another thing that only Dr. Trevelyan would manage to convince me to do.

"Eat up." I tell her. "The condition for our compromise about the whole meat thing was that you made sure to eat properly."

"I am eating." She mutters and I feel my eyes narrow. "I'm tired."

I have her get up at the same time as myself. I don't think she sleeps very well at night either but I hope that her lack of sleep springs from something different than it does for me. In that case she should get back to normal sleep habits if her bedtime and wakeup time are regular. A man can hope.

"Just be sure to finish all of that." I tell her, rising from my chair. "I'm going to the office, I'll ask Mrs. Jones to come in and sit with you."

The look on her face makes me smirk. But she doesn't argue. As I'm about to leave I add:

"I have an appointment with Claude at two p.m. so Taylor will collect you at one fifteen."

"Ok." Amber sighs. Sitting in the meditation room at Bastille's training center is definitely not her favorite part of the day. _Well sweetheart, that's why it's called punishment. _And I do think it does her good, even if she doesn't know it herself. She seems calmer after an hour and a half in there.

"Don't pout." I give her shoulder a squeeze and start making my way. "I shall see you later."

"Yeah." I hear her mumble into her plate and I don't even have to call for Mrs. Jones; she comes into the living area just as I approach the double doors to the foyer. That woman certainly makes herself worth the salary I pay her.

…

I'm in a pretty fucking good mood in the car after my session with Bastille. I managed to knock him on his ass no less than twice and the victory is immensely sweet because it's so damn rare. Amber is looking out of the car window; looking pensive. She has been like this every day when she's come out of the stripped, all white room with its soft light, deathly silence and no windows. I fucking hate that room, I never make use of it though I have it at my disposal.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask my daughter, a snappier tone than I intended but she doesn't seem to notice.

"Nothing really." She shrugs with a glance at me. She looks as if she's about to say something but then she clenches her lips together and looks away again.

"Tell me." I demand of her. "You were going to say something."

"Can I just ask you something?" She blurts out, speaking fast as if she's nervous.

"Yes." I say warily. _What will this be about?_

"I've been thinking about something…" She starts uncertainly. _Spill, baby. _"I've kind of been wondering about that paddle you know…" _Oh, I know. And I don't want to be reminded. _"How come you even had that?"

"Well, I don't have it anymore." No need to tell her that I have about ten others locked away in a room she will never see. I hope she'll drop the subject because it's not something I want to have a discussion about but of course she goes on:

"But did you like get in case I'd do something bad?"

I don't particularly enjoy lying to my daughter but there are some things that she would be much happier not knowing about and my playroom is most definitely one of them. I mutter something affirmative to her question and then add:

"But like I said, I don't have it anymore so there is no need to discuss any of this again. I already said I wouldn't spank you again so let's leave it at that. Agreed?"

"Ok." She mumbles and she actually seems about as happy to stop talking about these matters as I am. On impulse, I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it lightly before I let go. She looks somewhat surprised but says nothing.

Taylor drops me off at the office before proceeding to take Amber back to Escala. I give him a time to collect me for dinner at my brother's house and say goodbye to my daughter. I run a hand through my hair as I enter through the doors of my building with another sigh, of relief this time. Looking forward to throwing myself into five meetings I have scheduled; none of them can possibly be more challenging than ten minutes in the car with my daughter.

…

_**Amber **_

I sit in my room, itching with boredom. I hate being grounded. I want to listen to music, go outside for a walk, watch a movie or do any of the things I'm not allowed to do. I've been playing agitated quick pieces on the violin since I got home from the Isolation Cell as I have named that stupid meditation room in my head. But now I just can't anymore, I'm going crazy. As much as I'd like to just entertain myself, what really bugs me is not having access to my computer and internet. I want to google Leila Williams and find out who she is. I have been looking at all the paintings in the apartment and found two that have her initials on them and are in the same style as the one I have in my room. I haven't dared going back into dad's study to look at the file more because I'm not sure if Taylor has put up more cameras than the new ones on the balcony. I wouldn't put it past dad to have him do that, and dad would be so freaking furious if he found out that I'd never again see the light of day. He doesn't like me to be in his study, I still have nightmares about the time when I was little and he found me drawing on the walls in there. Leaving me in there on my own the other day was an exception and if he knew that I looked through his stuff he would probably lock the door with a security code.

I sigh and throw myself on the bed after carefully putting my violin back in its case. I have been lying down for only five minutes or so when there's a knock on the door.

"Amber?" It's Mrs. Jones. "There's a young boy here to see you. Should I let him up?"

What? I can't imagine who that would be; I don't have many close friends at school or anywhere. My classmates are idiots and I just haven't got to know the kids at Taido practice well enough for them to call on me at home. I get off the bed and open the door.

"Who was he?" I ask Mrs. J.

"He said his name was Phil Strider" She answers.

I frown. The Phil from the other night? How did he find me, I ask myself. And why does he want to see me, I thought he was disappointed in me for letting him think me older than I am.

"But I'm grounded." I sigh and Mrs. J smirks.

"Well, yes." She says. "But on the very explicit list I received from your father about what you may and may not do there was nothing indicated about having people over. You just cannot use your phone to invite them."

I feel a huge smile spreading over my face. Mrs. Jones is sneaky. I love her.

"Then let him up, please" I tell her. I don't care if Phil is angry or here to shoot me or whatever, seeing someone other than dad, Mrs. J, Taylor and the douchebag Claude Bastille will be amazing.

"I'll have security check him and send him up." Mrs. J scurries off and even if I feel silly for it I run into my bathroom to check myself in the mirror. I look like I always do, dark hair everywhere and grey eyes somewhere in between the strands. I push my fringe aside, reminding myself that I need a haircut as soon as I'm ungrounded, and put the rest up in a ponytail. At least I'm wearing a dress I like, a fine-knitted soft one striped in light blue, black and wine red. Taylor has been to get all my things from grandmas. I wasn't allowed to go with. I pull a little at my black pantyhose; it's too big and it curves at my shoeless feet. I go out to the foyer to meet Phil, again curious about how he found the apartment. As I reach the living area I find that he's in there already striding back and forth before the glass wall. I see Mrs. Jones is at something in the kitchen area.

"Hi." I tell Phil and he turns to me.

"Hi." He says with a hint of a smile. "Sorry for barging in."

"That's ok." I say because it is, it so is. "Sit down if you like. Do you want something to drink?"

"Eh, yeah thanks. Your housekeeper offered me already." He replies and sits down.

"Mrs. Jones." I sit down a few yards from him. A couch as big as this one requires the people sitting in it to spread out.

"Sorry, Mrs. Jones." He corrects himself. He looks even cuter in daylight.

Speaking of the devil, Mrs. J is back with two large glasses of pineapple juice.

"Thanks" I smile at her and Phil does the same while thanking her and accepting his glass.

"So how did you find out who I was? And where I lived?" I demand of Phil.

"I recognized your dad from some article I read. And I major in computer science." He says as if that explains it but then adds. "Hand me a laptop and I can find most things out."

Oh really? I raise an eyebrow.

"I'm impressed." I tell him. "And no offence, but why did you come?"

He squirms and smiles almost apologetically.

"I came to make sure you were ok." He says with a crazy amount of sincerity in his eyes. "Your dad seemed pretty mad."

"Oh." I let out, almost taken aback. "I'm fine. I'm grounded though. What happened to Luke?"

"He hasn't heard anything yet." Phil shrugs.

"Maybe dad has decided to drop it." I say hopefully.

Phil snorts at that.

"Luke can be an asshole and he's been corrupting my brother for years, getting him to drink and stuff." He shakes his head. "I think it would be great if something put a stop to that."

"Oh." I say again and we sit silent for a little while before I uncomfortably add: "Hey, sorry about pretending to be older than I am. That was stupid."

Phil shrugs again before he responds: "Well, you didn't technically say you were older than you are. But I can't believe I didn't see it, I mean you certainly look fifteen."

"Gee thanks." I snort. "Guess everything's clearer in daylight."

"Sorry." Phil laughs a little. "I didn't mean it like that. I thought you were older because you seemed mature. Better?"

"Yeah." I smile. "Thanks. And thanks for coming, that was nice of you."

He beams back at me. I could get used to watching this guy smile. And I get to see him do just that several more times in the half hour that follows. We talk about his college and music; apparently he used to play the violin too. But he says he sucked at it and only played because his mother wanted a string quartet. Apart from his brother Jim that I met the other night he has two other brothers, one older and another one in between himself and Jim. Apparently that one is the only one of them who has kept playing, the cello. I'm jealous of Phil. I always wanted a sibling and this guy has three. After a little while Mrs. Jones appears and tells me that Taylor will take me to my uncle's, via dad's office, in twenty minutes. I accompany Phil to the elevator; I need to push the code so he can go downstairs.

"Can I ask you a favor?" I blurt out suddenly when we get to the foyer. "You said you were good at researching stuff and I can't even google now because I'm not allowed to have my computer."

"Yeah?" Phil looks at me to tell him more. I draw a deep breath because deep down I feel like I'm crossing a line somehow.

"I'd like to find out more about this artist called Leila Williams." I say. "She is like in her mid thirties and lives in Connecticut somewhere. She has a husband. Could you like research her or something?"

"Sure." Phil shrugs. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know" I try to sound casual. "Maybe like if she has any exhibitions soon, if there's a way to meet her or write to her or something. I really like her paintings."

"Yeah, I'll see what I can do."

He accepts my explanation and I breathe out. I'd feel weird telling him the real reason for why I want to know about her. That I think she could have some relation to my mother. I stopped asking dad about her ages ago because he just got mad. He has hardly told me anything about her; only that she died when I was born and that her name was Laura. No last name or anything. But my middle name is Willa and I've never thought that's for any special reason until I saw that this Leila girl's last name was Williams. Maybe my mother, Laura, was like her sister or something. Cousin maybe. Someone with the same last name; I noticed in the file that Leila didn't take her husband's name.

"How will I get the info to you?" Phil asks, waking me from my reverie. "Can I have your number?"

"My dad has my phone." I mutter. "Why don't you come back here next Monday or something? In the day, when he's working."

"Yeah, cool." He smiles. "I'll see you Monday then; thank Mrs. Jones for the pineapple juice."

"Will do."

He leaves and I go to my room to change for dinner. Sort of wondering what I might have set in motion.

…

**Thank you thank you thank you for your encouraging and awesome reviews! Also thanks to the new followers and the ones who added the story to their favourites.**

**I'm so very happy that you like this story and that you're so engaged in it. Makes me super happy! I LOVE to hear your thoughts so please keep reviewing to let me know how you liked this chapter. …**

**In the next one Ana will finally make appearance, just so you know ;) **


	9. Chapter 9

_**Christian**_

Oh god, what wouldn't I give to be able to stay at home tonight. I've had a shitty day at the office, people demanding my attention for the most idiotic things to right and left. It's been one of the days where I've been thinking "why the fuck did I hire this person?" a few too many times. I'm feeling fucking restless too, that prickling need for certain things that doesn't go away no matter how busy I am.

"Dad, how long will we be staying for?" Amber brings me back to earth and where we sit in the car on our way to Elliott's.

"I don't know, why?" I ask and glance over at her.

"No reason." She shrugs. "But not like really late though, right?"

"I doubt it with your cousin." I feel the frown on my face at the thought of my handful of a niece. "I thought you were dying to get out of the apartment?" I say to Amber.

"Yeah, I was, I mean I am." She runs a hand through her hair. "I'm just kind of tired."

I eye her. She looks pale, in spite of how well she's been eating these past days.

"You're not sleeping enough." I tell her.

She snorts.

"And whose fault is that?" She mutters.

I sigh and scratch my stubble. I don't have the energy myself to fight with her right now. We remain quiet until we reach my brother's house and I steel myself.

"I'll try to keep it short." I promise Amber when I hold up the car door for her.

"Thanks." She smiles at me. _Holy fuck, that doesn't happen very often._ I put a hand on her shoulder as we walk towards the front door and squeeze it before I ring the doorbell.

"Hi!" My brother's obnoxious journalist life partner appears to have been standing right behind the door. She's wearing a tight black dress that's emphasizing her curves. I suppose one would call her attractive but not my type at all; too full of herself and constantly needing to show off. Perfect match for my big brother though. Amber looks uncomfortable when Kate attacks her with hugs and cheek kisses and I smirk. Kate doesn't touch me; she knows better. She guides us to the living room, chatting away with Amber about some article she _has_ to read about a violinist my daughter admires; Kate works at Seattle Times. I roll my eyes and go to greet my mother who is sitting in the couch while Kate pushes Amber into an armchair demanding to know what she wants to drink.

"Hi, mom" I lean over and kiss her on the cheek before I sit down on the other edge of the couch. "How are you holding up?"

"Hi, darling." She smiles at me. "I'm fine thank you; I'm starting to settle in here. It's time to move forward; for all of us."

She says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. I snort but of course she's right.

"Christian, what are you drinking?" Kate wants to know.

"Dry white wine." I reply. "Poilly Fumé if you have it."

She rolls my eyes at me and I fight the urge to scowl at her before she scurries off. Amber comes over to the couch and sits in between my mother and me, giving her grandma a hug. I look away at the sight of tears in Grace's eyes. I rise from the couch when they start mumbling to each other and as I do my brother Elliott walks into the room, holding my five-year-old niece Ava in his arms.

"Ambeeeer!" The kid lets out a high-pitched fucking scream and squirms out of Elliott's arms before she runs to the couch and jumps up on Amber, suffocating her by putting her little arms tight around her neck while kneeing her in the stomach.

"Ava!" Elliott shouts. "Gently with your big cousin."

In a flash, the girl is back on the floor stomping her foot.

"NO!" That fucking high-pitched scream again. "Amber is MINE; she's my cousin and she LIKES IT!"

"Ava." My mother scolds her mildly.

"Of course I like it." Amber says and pulls Ava up on her lap. "But I like it even more when I can hug you back!"

I shake my head and turn back to Elliott as Amber hugs Ava before she starts to tickle her, making the kid squeal with laughter. I have never understood my daughter's patience with her cousin but I do admire it.

"Sorry about her." Elliott grins apologetically, but I can see that irritating pride in his eyes. I wave him off. He clearly thinks his spoiled, selfish brat of a child is the most wonderful thing on the planet so his apology for her behavior is hypocritical and frankly, pretty fucking annoying to me. I'm quite happy that Ava seems a little afraid of me because children who always expect to get their way irritate the shit out of me. Amber was never like that and for that I am incredibly grateful. She was a little wildling on other aspects, that's for damn sure, but she has never screamed and cried to get her way or played adults against each other like I know Ava does. I think my brother is a fucking idiot for allowing her to. I smile tightly at my Elliott as he watches my daughter braid his daughter's hair on the latter's demand. Kate comes back with our drinks.

"Poilly Fumé for Mr. Grey." She says dryly and hands me my glass.

"Thank you, Miss Kavanaugh." Kate and Elliott are not married but I'm absolutely certain that even if they had been Kate would have kept her maiden name. She proceeds to giving Amber a glass of orange juice, which she can't drink of course because her hands are tied up in Ava's blonde curls.

"How is business?" Elliott asks me as Kate sits down to chat with our mother.

I raise an eyebrow at him; he probably thinks he's funny.

"Not bad." Is all I say because I know he's not interested in the slightest. "Yourself?"

"Good, we're working on a house not far from here, in…"

He's interrupted by another fucking squeal and a smacking noise.

"Ouch!" Amber lets out and I turn to her.

"Ava, don't hit Amber." Kate tells her and my mother looks shocked. Kate pulls Ava out of Amber's lap and takes her onto her own. "What happened, why did you do that?"

"She did it the wrong way!" Ava cries, tears streaming down her face. "I look stupid!"

"Sorry." Amber frowns. "I suck at braids."

"No Amber, it's not your fault!" Kate tells her. At least she got that right.

Ava cries into Kate's chest and my mother shakes her head in disbelief and touches Amber's cheek where Ava has apparently hit her. Oh fuck, would I like to take that kid over my knee. But of course I don't. Instead I sit down next to my daughter and turn her face to me.

"Woah" Elliott leans over my shoulder to have a look himself. "Ava throws a good slap."

Kate and I both glare at him and he holds up his hands.

"Not saying it's ok" he defends himself. "You hear me, Ava? You did a bad thing there!"

"I'll take her to do a new braid." Kate tells him and rises. "Keep an eye on the chicken, baby."

"Sure." He kisses Kate before they both disappear and I roll my eyes at their public display of carnal affection and get my attention back to Amber.

"Are you ok?" I ask her.

"Yeah, I'm ok." She snorts and rubs her red cheek. "She's five. It doesn't hurt, I was just chocked."

"She's such a spoiled little brat." My mother bursts out, shocking both me and Amber. "Thank god none of you were never like that."

Amber and I smirk at each other. Suddenly the doorbell rings.

"Hey, could someone open?" We hear Elliott call from the kitchen. "It's Kate's friend Ana, I'm kind of busy in here."

I sigh slightly before I rise to go to open the front door. I didn't know there would be anyone else and quite frankly I'm not at all interested to meet any of Katherine's friends; if they're half as irritating as she is I'll have to swallow half a pack of aspirin with scotch once we get back to Escala tonight. As I open the door, something falls straight onto me. As I grab the chestnut-haired woman's arms I roll my eyes at such clumsiness but then when she looks up at me I almost freeze. _Fuck, those eyes. _Clear, powder blue and with a very attractive embarrassed look in them at the moment. Extraordinary. Her face is pale and she's blushing and I find myself wondering if all her skin looks like that, flawless. I imagine what her ass would look life after a taste of a belt or a cane. _Fuck Grey, this is your sister-in-law's friend. _I push the wayward thoughts aside and smile politely at her as I let go of her arm and hold out my hand for her to shake.

"Christian Grey." I say. "Pleasure."

"Oh, you're Elliott's brother" She takes my hand and shakes it, surprising me with a firm handshake. "Anastasia Steele, I'm Kate's best friend from college."

Anastasia. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

"Ah, WSU?" I say and she nods before I put my hand on her shoulder to take off her coat. I simply have to touch her, I cannot resist. Her navy blue jacket is shapeless and looks cheap and she blushes slightly when my fingers brush against her bare arms but she says nothing. As I put the jacket on the hanger I repress a snort as I see where it's from; Walmart.

"Shall we?" I ask little Miss (God, I hope it's miss) Steele and she shakes her hair from her face and walks with me into the living room. Kate, Ava and Elliott are back in there and it feels too crowded now. I stand back, looking on as Anastasia Steele hugs her friend and my brother and bends down to kiss my niece. My cock twitches in response to her skirt tightening over her behind as she leans over the kid. Yeah, she's attractive. She is introduced to my mother and Amber.

"Amber is Christian's daughter." Kate says.

"Oh really?" Anastasia blurts out, looking surprised and then blushes as she looks my way, biting down on her bottom lip. _I want to bite that lip. _"Sorry Mr. Grey, you just look so young."

"He was twenty-two when I was born." Amber tells her. "So he's not that young."

_Thank you very much, sweetheart. _A delicious smile spreads over Miss Steele's face and I scowl at Amber. She smiles sweetly and I just roll my eyes.

"Youth is always relative, I suppose." Anastasia's voice is quite exquisite and fuck, do I love how she seems eager to please.

"That it is, Miss Steele." I shoot her a full-on smile and enjoy watching her melt immensely. And then she bites that lip again, nervously and I just want to attack her like a wild fucking animal. _Get a fucking grip. _I straighten up my face again as Elliott announces that dinner is served. Without looking at Miss Steele I make my way to the dining room. Leaving her confused and most likely uncomfortable but sternly telling myself that I don't give a fuck. It's better for her if I don't.

_**Anastasia**_

Holy cow, Kate's almost brother-in-law is attractive. She has never told me this when she's mentioned her boyfriend's family, the only thing she said was that he was some sort of business tycoon which frankly doesn't interest me in the slightest. I scowl at her across the table, thinking she could have prepared me some more for suddenly standing face to face with what must be the most beautiful man in all of Seattle. Quite possibly the most beautiful man on earth, no one should be allowed to look that good. And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, his daughter is so pretty with her cascade of soft brown hair and those incredible eyes that are just like her father's. I felt like an idiot for being so surprised when Kate told me Amber was Christian Grey's daughter; I knew he had one. My dearest friend told me that much and she also didn't fail to mention that the younger Mr. Grey is single. I almost snort aloud at the dinner table when I think about why she told me that; she has been trying to set me up with different people since I moved to Seattle just a month ago to work as an editor at Seattle Independent Publishing. Every time she's got it completely wrong and this time is no exception. As if this roman god would be interested in my mousy self. I feel like an outcast at this table full of extraordinarily beautiful people.

"Anastasia." Christian suddenly says with his soft, low voice. "I take it you've moved to Seattle permanently. How are you liking it so far?"

"I'm enjoying it" I say, blushing like a schoolgirl. Shit. "It's a great city and I love my new job."

"Which is?" He cocks his head to one side and I vaguely notice that Amber, who is sitting next to me, is listening too.

"Publishing." I tell them. "I've started as an editor at Seattle Independent Publishing."

"Oh, cool" Amber says.

"I agree." _Christian Grey thinks my job is cool? _"I have been thinking about buying into the publishing business, what with e-books and the app technology it's quite fascinating."

"Oh yeah." I nod my head and then get caught up in talking about my work. The pair of them actually seem interested in my blabbering, both of them regarding me with those gray eyes. I feel more confident, talking about my job is something I know how to do and do well. It's only the hint of a smile and that other thing I can't define that's playing in Christian's eyes that makes me uncomfortable. I'm finding it hard to eat, so I nervously shuffle around my chicken.

"Is that all you're eating?" Christian suddenly asks as Elliott clears the table.

"Um… yes." I stutter with a frown. Getting the sense that he disapproves I add: "I had a late and big lunch."

He seems appeased but I am immediately annoyed. I just met this man; I shouldn't have to lie to him about my eating habits! That is so not his freaking business.

"So" Kate says as dessert comes on the table. "Elliott and I have invited you here for a reason."

Everybody looks up at them and I lean back in my chair. I already know what she's going to say because she told me a few days ago but I keep a straight face.

"We thought that it would be good to have something to look forward to." Kate smirks, looking like the cat that got the cream. "And we decided that a wedding would be a great way to ease the sorrow that comes with a funeral."

"Oh!" Grace gasps. "You're getting married?"

"Yep" Elliott grins at Kate and leans over to kiss her while little Ava claps her hands. Amber smiles at them but doesn't look exactly overjoyed and quickly turns back to her rhubarb tart. I notice Christian gazing at his daughter for a few moments before turning to his brother and Kate.

"Congratulations, to both of you" he says with a polite smile as Grace walks around the table to hug her son and future daughter-in-law. "It's a shame Mia's gone back to New York, she would have liked to be here now." He adds acidly. I recognize the name Mia as Elliott's sister, she has been mentioned a couple of times over the years. Then he turns his sizzling gaze to me. "You don't seem surprised Miss Steele."

"Kate told me." I mutter, irritated that his glare makes me feel like an errant child and confused because I don't understand why that would be a problem. "I'll be her maid of honor." I add.

"I see." Grey's tone doesn't give anything away.

"Christian." Elliott turns to his brother, the grin still wide in his face as he pulls Ava up on his lap. "You know I won't let you get away. You'll be my best man even if I have to hold your assistant at gunpoint to clear your schedule."

In the hour or so I've spent in his presence I've gathered that Christian Grey is a man (god!) that doesn't like to be told what to do. Which is why he surprises me when he smiles widely, a boyish grin that lightens up his whole appearance and makes something stir inside me. _Oh my. _His smile is definitely breathtaking.

"You won't have to hold poor Andrea at gunpoint." He tells Elliott, amusement dancing in his gray eyes. "She's got more than enough on her plate."

"We're way past bachelor parties and that kind of stuff." Kate suddenly says. "We want to have something together instead, so you two…" She points to me and Christian. "Will have to plan an event for everybody."

This time I see Christian's eyes turn dark and I can almost hear him grit his teeth under the tight smile.

"Of course." He then says, as tightly as his lips were just pressed together. "I shall have to take Miss Steele out to lunch sometime next week."

"Please, call me Ana." I mumble.

"Ana." He says before he turns to Elliott. "When is the wedding?"

"Third weekend in June."

"Not long from now then." Christian mutters.

He's right. Anyone but Kate and I would have never agreed to be maid of honor. Of course, nobody else would ever ask me to be but that's beside the point. Oh my, I suddenly realize what has been agreed. Christian Grey will be taking me to lunch. How will I survive being the only one subject to those damn gazing eyes for however long without combusting? This affects me in a away nobody has. Including my boyfriend of six years, or ex-boyfriend now. Shit.

…

"So, Anastasia." Christian says once we're outside the house. The dinner had to be cut short when Ava threw a tantrum, demanding that both her parents read her stories before bed.

"Christian."

"I'd like to do that lunch at your earliest convenience; I like to get a head start in things and neither my brother or your friend will be happy at a badly planned party." He says, sounding like the businessman I know he is. "Should you like to drop by my office say, Monday?"

"Monday's fine." I say after a moment of going over next week's schedule in my head.

"Good." Christian puts a hand on Amber's shoulder. "Did you drive here, Anastasia?"

I love how he says my name. Unable to get a word out I just nod and wave my hand to my old beetle, Wanda. Grey's eyes narrow as he sees it.

"Well, if that's what you're driving I certainly hope you're driving carefully." He says, almost scolding.

"She's running perfectly fine, thank you very much." I snap, irritated at his tone.

He smirks back at me.

"Until we meet again, Anastasia. I'll have my assistant call you with the details on Monday morning." He leans closer and for a moment I almost think he's going to kiss me but instead he extends his hand. I shake it, my heart pounding in my chest. What _is _it with this man? "Come Amber."

"Bye Ana." Amber smiles widely at me. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too" I say breathlessly and manage to smile back. I drag myself towards my car as they get into the backseat of Christian's and it's only now that I notice the good-looking man with a buzz-cut who's sitting in behind the wheels. He nods at me through the glass and I nod back, snorting as I turn around. Of course he would have a private driver. I get into my beetle and it's not until ten minutes later, when I'm on the highway, that I realize that Christian Grey never even asked for my number.

…

**PLEASE review to let me know what you thought of this! I'm nervous about your reactions to the introduction of Ana and as always dying to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading and thank you to the new followers and for all the lovely reviews of the last chapter. It means so much to me!**

…

**I'M SORRY ABOUT WRITING THE FOLLOWING HERE! It's response to the anonymous reviewer for chapters 5, 6, 7 and 8:**

**I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I appreciate feedback and you taking the time to review the story but your tone annoys the crap out of me. I'm sorry you find the story boring and hard to get into but nobody is forcing you to read. As you're clearly not reviewing because you want to help me improve my story or my writing I shall reply to each of your reviews in the same way you've written them; crassly and without sugar-coating anything.**

**Chapter 5 and 6: Um, yeah? I know she's not his sub or his dog and he knows that too. Those issues are major parts of the conflict around which this entire story revolves. But perhaps you missed that if you like to skip the "boring" parts.**

**Chapter 7: Have you read the books upon which this fanfiction is based? If so, how fast do you think they are moving? And again, your tone just makes me f-ing sad. Too bad for you if you find it boring but I happen to like long drawn-out conversations.**

**Chapter 8: I disagree, I think it would have been quite possible for him to get in there in the way I'm picturing security at Escala to operate. And, once again, why do you have to write like I'm an idiot? And if we're speaking about what's "realistic" I'd like to refer to the books a second time. I could point to at least ten places where you could also say "that would never have happened" so I think I'm allowed a thing or two if it helps my story forward.**

**In conclusion: had you expressed your thoughts in a constructive way I might have taken them to heart but now you just annoy me for writing in that rude and condescending way. Also I think it's pretty cowardly to write like that anonymously and it makes me SAD that your way of reviewing has made me so pissy in this letter. I'm very sorry for the rest of you that you have to read this.**

**Thank you though for reading but if my story annoys you; don't bother.**

…

**ONCE AGAIN I'M SORRY THAT THE REST OF YOU HAD TO SEE THAT.**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Amber**_

I almost fall asleep in the car back home. My head has been hurting since before we got to Kate and Elliott's and now my throat is starting to feel sore too. I hope I'm not getting sick, being grounded is miserable enough as it is even with Phil coming back to visit on Monday. I'm so psyched about that; dad's plans with Ana couldn't have worked out better for me. I liked Ana too, I'm looking forward to meeting her again sometime.

"Amber, we're here." I feel dad's hand on my shoulder and open my eyes. The car has stopped. With a yawn I get out and walk with dad to the elevator.

"Are you ok?" Dad asks once we're upstairs.

I shrug.

"Amber." Dad's voice is stern now as we get out of the lift and into the foyer. "You don't look well. If you're not ok then you need to say so."

I glance over at him, his face is stony and he's doing the fire eye thingy.

"I'm tired. My head and throat kind of hurt." I tell him reluctantly.

He puts a hand on my forehead.

"You're a little warm." He mutters. "I hope you're not coming down with something."

He moves his hand to my shoulder and half pushes me into the living area.

"Go get ready for bed." He orders me. "I'll bring you some tea."

"Ok." I mumble, too tired to argue with him even if I don't like it when he orders me around like I'm five. I trudge to my room, shower and brush my teeth and put my PJs on before I sit cross-legged on the bed. Almost the instant I sit down there's a brief knock on the door and then dad comes in with a ridiculously over-sized (and probably ridiculously over-priced too) white mug in his hand. He puts it on my nightstand along with a glass of water and a chart of pills and sits down on the side of the bed.

"Thanks." I tell him and take a sip of the tea. "Did you make this?"

"Yes." He frowns at me. "Why, is there something wrong?"

"No, it's just how I like it." I say because it is. Strong English Breakfast with milk and honey. I drink greedily, it hurts a little to swallow but mostly it just feels soothing.

"I am perfectly able to make a cup of tea." Dad snorts. "It's cooking that I can't seem to manage and that is why I pay Mrs. Jones a very decent salary to do it for me."

I don't tell him that the surprise wasn't that he knew how to drop a teabag in hot water; it was that he knew how I liked my tea and made the effort to prepare it that way.

"You can cook though." I comment when I recall an event from when I was little. "You made me mac and cheese once."

"Oh yeah." He smirks. "I'm surprised you remember that, you can't have been more than four. Gail was on vacation and Sandrine was sick. Or rather, she claimed to be sick but I think it might have had something to do with her boyfriend being in the country at the time."

Sandrine was the French au Pair I had when I was little and it's courtesy to her that I speak fluent French today. Real French, which I'm kind of proud over. Not with the hideous and embarrassing American accent. I cringe when I hear my grandmother speak French; not that I'd ever tell her of course.

"What do you think of Elliott and Kate getting married?" Dad suddenly asks me and the question takes me by surprise. "You seemed a little off when they told us." He adds, surprising me again because he noticed.

"I don't know." I answer fleetingly but dad's gaze tells me I'm not going to get away with a vague answer. "I guess… I guess I think they could have waited a little, I mean, grandpa is hardly even in the ground yet. And now we're supposed to stop thinking about him because they want us to be happy about their stupid wedding?"

Something in my throat thickens and it's not just because it's sore. I don't really know where my little outburst comes from but it really is how I feel about it. Dad takes my hand and squeezes it.

"Hey." He says as some tears spill down over my cheeks. "If that's what you feel, that's what you feel. I'm glad you told me. And it's perfectly all right, I was a bit taken aback myself. But just because Elliott and Kate like to be the center of attention it doesn't mean that anybody will forget about your grandfather. I certainly won't, and whenever you want to talk about him; you can talk to me. Ok?"

"Ok" I mumble, doubting I ever will but feeling a little better while wiping my face with my hand after putting the tea mug back on the nightstand.

"Now, I think you're overtired and a little feverish and that makes you particularly emotional." Dad states, businesslike as ever. "Take the Advil I brought you and try to get some sleep."

I nod and do as he says, swallowing two pills with some of the water. Ouch, it hurts to swallow. I cough a little and dad slaps me lightly on my back and takes the bottle out of my hand.

"Better?" He asks when my coughing is less prominent and I nod once more.

"Good" He gives my hand another squeeze before he gets up to leave, bringing my empty teacup with him. "Try to get some sleep now, you know how to find me if you need to."

"Yeah" I mumble tiredly and get under the covers when dad walks towards the door. "Good night, love you."

My eyes shoot open when I realize what I just said. I don't think I've ever told dad that I love him, nor him me. But it just slipped out, like it would with either of my grandparents when we said good night. Dad looks about as shocked as I feel but suddenly he smiles at me, like really smiles. Big and warm and all that. Then he's back to serious, but it's a sort of warm serious.

"I love you too, Amber." He says and then clears his throat. "Sleep tight now."

"Yeah…" I say, blushing slightly. "You too."

He smiles again, briefly this time, and disappears through the door. "Huh", is my last thought before I'm asleep.

…

I wake up with my heart pounding and a really bad feeling; I know I must have had a nightmare even if I can't for my life remember what it was. I swallow and almost cry out because it hurts like hell. So does my head, it's throbbing in spite of the Advil I took earlier. In fact, my whole body is aching and my pulse feels like it's five-hundred beats per minute. It's dark outside, still night. I'm so thirsty, I need to drink something like _now. _I reach for the water but my arm is not cooperating and I accidentally knock it over. It doesn't break but rolls under the bed, and there's water all over the floor. _Shit. _I tumble out of bed, almost getting whirled up in my sheets. I feel light-headed and kind of dizzy as I drag myself towards the kitchen and vaguely notice that Bach's Prelude No 1, in C Major, is being played from somewhere afar. Bach/Gounod's Ave Maria is a favorite of mine, I love to play Gounod's superimposed melody on the violin. I get myself to the fridge and reach for the carton of pineapple juice and start drinking straight from it. I don't realize that the music has stopped and when I feel a hand touch my shoulder I jump high and drop the juice carton. It spills all over the floor, splashing up on my bare feet.

"Jesus Amber" Dad mutters and then softens slightly. "I didn't mean to startle you. What are you doing up?"

"Nightmare." I mumble in a hoarse voice. _Ow, it hurts to talk._ I want to sit down.

"What about?" Dad demands.

"Don't remember." I murmur. "What are you doing up?"

I can't see his face in the dark but he stiffens as he removes his hand from my shoudler and then I hear his curt voice.

"Same. Couldn't sleep, so I played for a while."

"Oh" _Dad has nightmares? _I'm feeling light-headed again and this time my head doesn't stop pounding. I'm drowsing off where I stand until dad grasps my arms and shakes me lightly.

"Hey" He murmurs. "Are you ok?"

"Hurts." I say. I don't have the energy to speak properly anymore.

"Hurts where?" Dad guides me over to the breakfast bar and lifts me up on a stool like I'm a little kid. "Amber!" He snaps when I don't answer.

"Head, throat and everywhere." I croak and then suddenly I feel dad's hand on my forehead.

"Hotter than before." He says tightly. "Stay here" _As if I'd be going anywhere._

He starts rummaging through the cupboard. I've almost fallen asleep over the table when dad puts a glass of water in front of me along with two pills.

"Take these." He tells me and I do. Then suddenly I feel him lifting me up and I lean my head against his shoulder, way too tired to argue that I'm not five years old.

"I have to clean up." I mumble however.

"Don't be ridiculous." Dad snorts and carries me back to my room where he puts me back down in the bed. The water on the floor seems to have dried off because dad doesn't say anything. He pulls the cover up over me, all the way to my chin, before he goes into my closet. A minute later he's back in the room with a sweatshirt and thick woolen socks. He folds the cover back from me again.

"Sit up." He says and holds the sweater for me to put my head and arms in. Though I feel like a baby I push my head and hands into it and let him pull it onto me. I remain sitting, leaning against my pillows, as dad puts the socks on my feet. I'm glad he's doing that because I don't have the energy to bend so far right now. I sink down back into lying position and pull the cover up myself this time; I'm so cold. Dad walks around the bed and lies down beside me. He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. "Try to sleep." He murmurs and I am, to say the very least, quick to obey.

…

_**Christian**_

I had to fight the urge to call and wake my doctor mother when I felt Amber's forehead. Not because I worried that she'd be seriously ill, I have been around enough to recognize a normal case of flu. But more because it's what I always did when Amber was sick as a child, I called my mother and had her pick her up or I took her back myself. My parents would always complain that I wouldn't care for her when she was sick but they seemed quite happy to do it themselves. Only once have I been the one to nurse her back to health, when her grandparents were vacationing in France. She had the stomach flu and it was fucking horrible. The worst part was seeing her so weak, so unlike her normal lively self. But Amber has always been extreme, she doesn't get sick very often but when she does she really gets it. Like now. Thank god she fell asleep so easily; she needs it.

I reach out and brush my knuckles over her hot cheek. Her skin is so soft, like when she was a baby. Like her hair, I note when I stroke it away to feel her forehead again. Her hair is so unruly, like mine, but almost like liquid when you touch it, it's so soft. He fever seems to be going down somewhat after the meds I gave her. Good. Now maybe I can relax too.

…

I wake up with a flinch and the first thing I note is the surprising fact that I've gone to sleep at all. I never sleep with anyone else there. Then I turn my attention to what woke me up, a soft whimpering next to me, and turn my head to see that Amber is fighting a fucking war in her sleep. Is it always like this for her? If so she's worse off than I am, at least I'm used to my fucking nightmares at this point. I sit up and lean over her, grasping onto her shoulders.

"Amber." I mutter in her ear. "Amber, wake up."

Gasping, Amber opens her eyes wide and sits up so violently that she nearly knocks her head into mine. Breathing heavily she bites her lip as her eyes fill with tears, most likely in an attempt t prevent them from falling. It's a failed attempt and they run like waterfalls down her flustered cheeks. My hands are still on Amber's shoulders so I pull her to me and she buries her face in my chest for the second time this week.

"How about this time?" I ask her. "Do you remember what it was about?"

I feel her shaking her head and I sigh, stroking her hair and remembering what it was like when she was little and we found ourselves in this situation. It was not often that Amber actually came and got me when she had nightmares but on some occasions they were too scary for her to ignore and I'd wake up from a soft tapping on my bedroom door. The first time she was in tears and wanted to go home to her grandparents but I refused to call them in the middle of the night and eventually she accepted it when I came back with her and lay next to her like when she couldn't go to sleep. Minus the laptop of course. But Amber always claimed not to remember her nightmares then as well; I've never really known if that's true or if she simply doesn't want to tell me.

"Do you want a glass of water?" Again, she shakes her head and I reach out to plush up her pillows so she can lie back down. When she does I remain sitting, looking down at her. "Do you want me to stay?" I ask her, willing to give her the choice for once. This time she nods and I smirk inwardly and lie back down myself, putting my hands under my head. Pretty fucking grateful that I don't have to go to the office tomorrow. I think about the intriguing Miss Steele. In my office, Monday. What I'd like to do with her. I indulge in my imagination for a little while before I mentally punch myself and gaze over at my daughter. _Why is she not sleeping? _She's staring up at the ceiling with her fever-glossy eyes.

"Can't sleep?"

She shakes her head and I sigh.

"What are you thinking about?" I demand.

"Nothing." Her voice is hoarse and raspy and it sounds like it hurts for her to press out the words.

"Throat still hurting?"

At this she nods and I cannot say for sure in the dark but I'm pretty fucking sure she's rolling her eyes. For once I don't blame her; it was a stupid question. We stay silent for a few moments.

"Do you remember when you were little and had nightmares?" I ask her. "You used to come and get me and I'd stay with you until you went back to sleep."

"Mm."

"I never knew how to comfort you, Amber." _Christ, late night confessions making appearance._ "You never tell me what you really feel, what you're really thinking, I always have to drag it out of you."

"Wonder who I got that from." She caws and even with her unrecognizable voice she manages to make the sarcasm clear.

I snort, irritated that she's completely right. I just wish the inability to discuss her feelings comfortably was one thing she hadn't inherited from me. God knows her mother was quick to tell when something was up. Then again, the less Amber inherited from her mother the better. We lie quiet for another while.

"Can I read?" Amber asks me, her hoarse voice barely audible.

"It's five a.m. and you're sick Amber, don't be ridiculous." I snap and the collect my tone. "Try to rest, sleep will come."

I hear sigh and squirm around and then I get an idea.

"I'll read to you if you want." I tell her. "I'll go get something."

I switch on the lights to see her surprised look and smirk at her before getting out of the bed and walking over to her vast bookshelf. It looks empty; I have had Taylor clear it of all her other books to replace it with the so-called appropriate reading I got her for the time she's grounded. Classics with idiotic moral messages. Dull fucking shit most of it. I grab Jane Eyre, which I actually don't mind terribly. At least I didn't when I read it in school at fifteen. I get back into Amber's bed and she glances at the title, rolling her eyes which I ignore once more.

"Your grandmother read to me sometimes during the night when I had nightmares" I reminisce as I open the book.

"My biological grandmother or my real one?" Amber croaks and I smile at how she refers to Grace.

"Your real one."

"She does that for me too." Amber sighs and I can't tell if her eyes are watering or just feverish. I think it best not to push her.

"Close your eyes." I order and she obliges, curling up under her cover. I start reading aloud and thankfully, but not surprisingly, Amber is asleep before I've finished the first page.

…

**Another talky one, hope you don't mind! I have to admit that I'm stalling Christian's and Ana's meeting a little bit because I don't have any good ideas about that bachelor/bachelorette party… If you do, please let me know so I get a little inspired! And as usual, do review to let me know what you think, bad or good but please be constructive in your criticism ;)**

…

**About my rant at the end of last chapter… THANK YOU to everyone who has been incredibly supportive! Some of your encouraging reviews nearly made me cry. However, I hope I didn't come across as someone who can't take criticism because I do know that there's always room for improvement (I have a fear of rereading because I know I'll cringe from lots of stuff..) and EVERYONE, anonymous or signed, is entitled to an opinion. Aöso, I'm not that naïve and I do know that people will disagree with some of my writing and have opinions that differ from mine. I REALLY do want to know those opinions too but I still think that there is a distinct line between "no-nonsense" constructiveness and being unpleasant. The fact that the "mean" reviewer had a tone that was irritating for me I found offensive because it's harder to address an anonymous reviewer and I'm sure that someone who posts snappy reviews anonymously must know that. I could be wrong though! **

**To Hrdwrker: I agree with you on most of your points (as I had hoped that I made clear in my post adressing "guest"), but as stated above I think don't think it was a matter of just being straightforward and that's why I reacted and decided to respond like I did. As I've said lots of times during the writing of this story; I appreciate opinions and I do want to improve and get nots on how best to do that. While this is my story and I like to pretend that I am the master of my own little universe, my readers thoughts have major influences on me. Which was why the tone of "guest"'s reviews made me sad and irritated; the tone and the way they were put forward made it so much harder for me to take in and reflect on what was indeed valid points. Even if I don't agree with all of it.**

**So again, hope I haven't scared anyone off… And once more: THANK YOU for following, favoriting and supporting this story by reviewing! It means the world. x**


	11. Chapter 11

**Not very many reviews for the last chapter! Thank you very much for the ones I did get , and thanks for following and favoriting, and I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with the last update. In this chapter things are finally set in motion a little bit and we have some Ana again! Please do review because I find her hard to write and I'd like to know what you think Thank you so much for reading! x**

…

_**Christian**_

"Amber?"

"Hmmm…"

My daughter just moans as she lies in bed late afternoon and I sigh, feeling worried against better judgment. The better judgment being to trust my mother. I called her first thing this morning and she's been over to examine Amber, confirming that she has indeed caught the flu that's apparently going right now. How the fuck she managed to catch it is beyond me as she's been here all week and no one from last night is ill. Mom was pretty sure that it was the flu when we spoke on the phone so she brought a whole pharmacy with her, already prescribed. It's fucking hard work getting Amber to take it though, I've never seen my daughter so drained of energy. I've been sitting on her bed working on my laptop all day. She's stayed in bed sleeping, only reluctantly waking and sitting up for her medicine and some chicken soup that I practically had to force down her throat.

"Amber" I try again, grasping her shoulder and shaking her lightly. "Come on. Medicine time."

"Again?" She croaks and opens her eyes slowly.

"Again." I confirm and place a hand under her on her back to push her up into sitting position. "Here."

I hand her a pill and hold a water glass to her mouth. Once she's swallowed I pour the cough medicine for her throat into the container and make her swallow that as well. She wrinkles her face, as she has the two other times she's been given it today. But the meds are working their magic; at least her fever is down and she seems better each time I wake her. It could of course be due to her making up for lost sleep.

"Do you want to lie on the couch instead?" I decide to ask her. "Watch a movie?"

"I'm not allowed to." She mumbles with her eyes closed once more.

"I think that's my decision." I snort. "Do you want to or not?"

"No thank you."

What the _fuck? _Now I'm seriously worried that this is a god damn brain tumor. The Amber I know would never have passed on that. I'm about to ask her if she's joking but my Blackberry interrupts me by buzzing in my pocket. I lift it up, it's a number I don't recognize.

"Grey." I snap briskly into the phone.

"Ehm… Mr. Grey?" The most delicious voice fills my ear. "It's Anastasia Steele."

"Oh, hello Anastasia." I say, rise from Amber's bed and stroke her hair before I walk out of the room for some privacy. She seems to have fallen asleep again. "What can I do for you? And, if I may ask, how did you get this number?" I ask and hear her sharp intake of breath in the other end.

"I got your number from Elliot." She explains. "I needed to get in touch with you to let you know that unfortunately I have to leave for New York on Monday morning. It's a business trip."

"Oh, that is unfortunate." I say politely and casually but inside I'm fucking screaming. _I need to see her. _"How long will you be gone for?"

"All week I'm afraid." _Is that a hint of sad disappointment that I hear in your voice too, Miss Steele?_

"How about tomorrow?" I ask before I can stop myself. "Do you have plans?"

"Apart from packing, none." She says, sounding surprised.

"Let's meet then." I decide. "Like I said yesterday, I'd like to get a head start. Party planning is not my strongest suit."

"Nor mine." She admits softly and then pauses before saying: "Ok then, tomorrow. Where?"

"My daughter is sick so I'd rather not leave her on her own." I tell her. "You're welcome to come here if you'd like."

"Oh." Once again, I hear her surprise. _Oh, baby. I could surprise you a lot. _"I'm sorry to hear Amber's sick. Are you sure we won't be disturbing her?"

"Yes, either she'll be in bed or she'll be happy to see someone other than me."

"All right." Anastasia Steele sounds as if she doubts my words. "What time?"

"Join me for brunch. Say… ten thirty?"

"Cool." The word out of her smart, sophisticated mouth sounds strange and I smirk.

"Good." Much as I'd like to keep it going, I prepare to end the conversation. "I'll have my driver collect you from your apartment at ten fifteen."

"You don't have to do that, I'll drive myself."

"Please." I say. "I'm the one forcing you over to my place, the least I can do is have someone pick you up."

Again, I hear her thinking silently.

"All right." She mutters. "Thank you."

"Until tomorrow then."

"Don't you need my address?" She asks with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"Um… Sure."

She gives it to me and I pay no notice; I got Walsh do run a background check on her this morning so I have all her information already.

"Ok…" She sounds hesitant. "See you tomorrow then."

"Yes, Anastasia." I smile. "Tomorrow. Have a good night."

"Thank you." She clears her throat. "You too."

I can almost feel her exquisite blush on my own face.

_**Anastasia**_

I feel like a silly little schoolgirl when I step into the elevator at the building I now know as Escala. My heart is fluttering and I already feel flush. Why the hell does this man affect me so? I was caught completely off guard on the phone when he asked me over; according to Kate he's a very private person. I gaze awkwardly at the guy with the buzz-cut called Taylor and then look in the elevator mirror. I decide that I'll have to do but I'm painfully aware that my hair is all over the place and that my blouse is a size too big. I must have lost some weight. With a nervous little sigh I exit the elevator as the doors slide open. This is some foyer. All white, and in the middle is a dark, oval wooden table with an enormous bouquet of fresh flowers on it and the walls almost make me feel I'm in an art gallery. I wonder idly how much money has been spent on just the paintings in this apartment. Then my heart nearly stops when I see him standing there, all stubble and smiles and tousled hair. He's wearing a white shirt and dark jeans with converse sneakers. His shirt is not tucked in and a few buttons are undone at the top. _Oh my._

"Good morning Anastasia" He says with a smirk.

The smirk annoys me, he appears so smug. Surely he must know the affect he has on women. I smile tightly in return, extending my hand for him to shake.

"Mr. Grey, good morning." I say and he raises his eyebrows and shakes my hand, but places his left hand on my right arm leaning closer and saying in a low, sexy voice.

"It's good to see you again" He's back to standing at a yard's distance before I even realize how close he's been. "Come. We'll take breakfast in the main room."

I look around to thank Taylor for driving me but he appears to have vanished into thin air. I didn't even notice him go. Christian Grey places a hand on my back guiding me through too large double doors into a palatial room that nearly makes me gasp for air. I notice, far far away, the shiny kitchen area where a breakfast bar that would comfortably seat six people is overflowing with breakfast foods. Christian Grey leads me over and I try not to gawk too much at my surroundings. I know he has Amber here too but seriously, who needs this much space? The view though. I imagine it to be such a joy to see Seattle from this vantage point every day.

"Please sit Anastasia." Christian Grey holds out a chair for me. I hop up on it, mumbling thanks.

He grins apologetically.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I ordered a little of everything." He says. "There's a hotel I like not far from here that has an excellent breakfast selection. I sometimes have meetings there."

"It all looks great." I tell him and he grins wider.

"Coffee?" He asks. "Or do you prefer tea?"

"Tea please." I say. "I never really learned to appreciate coffee."

"Is that so?" He smirks. "Tea it is then. Black, green, red?"

"Black thank you. And I'd like the bag out please." _Thank you, please, thank you… _It's just tea!

He walks to the kitchen counter to prepare the drinks and I take a sip from the orange juice in front of me. It's freshly squeezed and tastes divine.

"How's Amber?" I ask him, remembering he said she was sick.

"Better" Is his response. "She should be up and running in a few days or so."

"Oh, great."

"Here you are. Black tea, bag out."

Twinings English Breakfast. My favourite. I look down at it, smiling.

"A penny for your thoughts" Grey says and regards me with those gray eyes. I blush, of course.

"I was just thinking how this is my favorite tea."

"Really?" His eyebrows shoot up again. "It's my daughter's favorite as well."

"What a coincidence." I say as I drop the teabag in the cup and almost immediately fish it out. Christian looks at me, amused?

"I like my tea black and weak." I mutter.

"Fine." He smiles. "Help yourself to food. I will take a plate to Amber for her to eat in bed."

He fills a big, square white plate with pancakes and eggs and it looks so good that I opt for the same. Christian is back a few minutes later and sits down again, loading his own plate with omelet and fruit.

"So, Anastasia." He burrows his eyes into me. "How is it that my brother and your best friends have been together for six years and we haven't met before?"

I blush.

"I haven't had the time or the means to come here very often." I admit. "I used to live in Georgia with my boyfriend, and Kate was mostly the one who came to visit me."

"I see." Christian looks contemplating. "Has your boyfriend moved with you here?"

"It's ex-boyfriend now."  
"I'm sorry." He says but he doesn't look it.

"How about you?" I ask and I don't know where my words come from. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

I know Kate told me he was single but you never know. He looks weird for a second before smirking.

"No Anastasia" He replies matter-of-factly. "I don't do the girlfriend thing?"

Whatever does that mean? And with that annoying enigmatic smile.

"Are you gay?" It's out of my mouth before I can stop myself. _Oh god! _ I can't believe I just asked him that. I nearly choke when I see the look on his face. The cool gleam in his eyes make me cringe and so does his icy voice when he says:

"No Anastasia, I am not."

"Sorry." I mutter. "I should have… You have a daughter."

"I could have found my sexuality after having her." He looks amused again. Thank god.

"I suppose." I bit down on my lip and something changes in his eyes as he looks at me. They darken, and he looks almost hungry but still calculating and calm. I feel a fluttering in my stomach and know I won't be able to eat anymore. Half of the food on my plate is left.

"Is that all you're eating?" Christian asks in a disapproving voice.

I'm about to answer something, what I don't know, when we're interrupted by a new presence in the room. Amber is approaching us slowly, wearing an embroidered robe over her pajamas. She's holding her empty plate. Christian turns in his chair to look at her as she places it in the sink. She grins slightly at him.

"I was hungry." She says and he snorts, even if he has a content look on his face.

"No wonder. You barely ate anything yesterday."

Amber doesn't answer him but looks at me.

"Hi Ana." She says and I can hear on her voice that her throat must be sore.

"Hi" I say, smiling at her. "I heard you're sick."

"Oh, it's little more than a cold really." She shrugs and Christian rolls his eyes.

"She has the flu." He tells me. "Young lady, I don't know what you think you're doing up but I don't want you to tire yourself or infect Ana. Back to bed or on the couch."

"I just wanted to say hi to Ana." She defends herself. "I'll go back to bed."

Christian's eyes soften.

"I could still put on a movie for you if you'd like." He says and for a moment I feel like I shouldn't be here. Surely, Christian should spend time with his sick daughter rather than with me.

"Um, I think I should go." I say, shuffling my things together. "I still have lots to pack and I have to get some things from the dry cleaner."

Father and daughter both turn to me and gaze with the same eyes.

"We haven't discussed Kate and Elliott's pre-ordered surprise party yet" Christian mutters. "Did you have any ideas that I can look into while you're away?"

"Ehm… No, I don't" I blush but then I think; he could have come up with something himself damn it. "How about you?" I hold my head high and he shrugs.

"Not really."

"You should do a rock star party." Amber croaks and we both look at her. "You know… It would work for both guys and girls. You could have different themes in different parts of the location; like one classic rock stage, one heavy metal and so on. You could have really cool bands playing and have someone style Kate and Elliott before."

She starts to look more excited at each word she speaks.

"And you could pay teenagers to stand outside and scream and act like groupies and ask everyone who arrives for pictures and stuff!" She bursts out. "I bet Kate and Elliott would love that, being attention whores and all."

"Amber!" Christian shouts. "Careful what you're saying. And mind your language."

"Sorry." She mutters and I stifle a laugh. She's kind of right.

"But I think you're onto something, they would like that. I know Elliott would love to be a rock star for a night." Christian turns to me. "What do you think Ana?"

"Yeah, it's a great idea." It really is. I smile encouragingly at Amber, who beams back with her feverish eyes glittering.

"Good, I'll look into it." Christian says, all businesslike suddenly. "Amber, go into the TV room. I'll be with you shortly, after I see Anastasia to the door."

He takes my arm to escort me out and Taylor suddenly appears out of nowhere as we stand in the foyer.

"Call me when you get back from your trip" He urges me. "I'll start looking for appropriate venues in the meantime. And Anastasia?"

"Yes?" My voice is little more than a whisper as I stand in the elevator, him still in the foyer. I suddenly really don't want to leave.

"I think we'll make a great team"

Another dashing smile and then the doors slide closed. _Oh my. _

…

**Thank you so much to bb-4ever, dm1990, kaycad742, godlovesebonie and Cherry2 for reviewing the last chapter. One advantage with being a bit fewer is that I can thank each one of you like this! Cherry2: Thanks so much for your review! Regarding Related by Blood, there will be a sequel but I'm not sure when. Probably within a few months though :)**

**Again, please do review and let me know what you think or if you have any wishes/ideas! It really does mean a lot to me what you think.**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Amber**_

In reality I feel much better Monday morning, but I'm no nervous that dad may decide to work from home rather than going to the office. Then what will happen when the concierge downstairs announces that Mr. Strider is back to see Miss Grey? I don't want to think about it so I just act like a nervous, confused wreck and break my teacup before putting marmalade on the side of the toast that I hadn't just buttered. Then I was confused again when I saw the butter stains on my plate. At least I'm not in bed anymore or I would have been worried about the sheets. Or not really, because Mrs. J does them, but still.

"Are you sure you'll be all right on your own today?" Dad asks with a frown when he watches as I wipe my fingers with a napkin.

"Yeah, sure." I croak with my still hoarse voice.

"I'll take good care of her, Mr. Grey" Mrs. J cuts in as she wipes her hands on a dish towel. "You know you could have called me to help out, my sister doesn't live far."

"I'll remember next time, thank you." Dad mutters and eyes me suspiciously over his phone. "You'll mind what Gail says today?"

"When do I not?" I mutter back and dad rolls his eyes.

"Figure of speech." He snaps his Blackberry shut and rises from the breakfast bar. "No TV today; it was a one-time sick-offer."

"Ok." I sigh as he comes around and kisses my head. "It was good while it lasted."

Dad grins at me.

"It was, wasn't it?" He says. "I can't believe I have not seen Some Like it Hot before."

"I can't believe you liked it" I smirk and dad lets out a snort.

"I'm not immune to good comedy, Amber. And we had a nice time yesterday."

"Yeah" I agree, because we did. I don't remember the last time I watched movies and ordered take-out with my father. Probably because that has never happened before. Dad turns to leave.

"I shall see you this evening." He tells me before nodding at Mrs. Jones. "Have a good day, Gail."

"Thank you, sir. You too"

Once he's gone, I turn to Mrs. Jones and my panicked look must freak her out because she bursts out:

"What's the matter Amber?"

"I need your help, please please please!"

"Oh dear, what is it?"

"Can you pleeeease brush my hair?"

She just smiles with a roll of her eyes. Lots of eye-rolling going on at Escala today.

…

A few hours later, I'm all showered and dressed and Mrs. Jones has sorted out my tangled hair. I have lots of hair and when I don't wash or brush it for a few days, like I haven't now, it gets seriously mad at me. And self-inflicted pain has never done it for me so far. I'm waiting in the great room, for Phil. I'm so curious to see what he found out about the Leila woman. I don't know why I've gotten so hooked on her, she could be anyone and my rational me says that she's probably not connected to my mother at all. The thing is though, I rarely listen much to my rational me.

When Mrs. J announces that Phil is here I get nervous. I like him. Like a lot. I don't really know why but I do, it feels like something chemical.

"Hi" He smiles at me as he sits down a few yards away on the big couch. "I'd like to hug you but I've been sick. Was down with the flu all weekend."

I reach over and punch his arm.

"Ow!" He moans. "Why?"

"You gave it to me." I tell him. "I've been sick too."

"Oh, I'm sorry" He looks mortified and I giggle stupidly.

"Don't be silly." I say. "I might as well have given it to you. Maybe you should punch me back"

"I don't want to." He says but then smirks. "But I guess this means we can hug."

So we do. Then Phil pulls out a folder form his messenger bag.

"I printed some stuff about that artist chick." He tells me and suddenly sounds like dad when he talks in his business voice. "It's quite strange actually; she's been missing for the last month and a half. No one knows where she is."

"How did you find that out?" I ask and my disappointment is immense.

"I have my ways." Phil says, smirking again and showing off his teeth. They're nice teeth.

"Do you know anything about her background?" I demand.

"She studied at Rhode Island School of Design, started around fourteen years ago and graduated three years later. Looks like she's made a pretty good living from her art. And her husband filed for divorce like two months ago so maybe that's why she's disappeared."

"Whoa." I try to get my croaky voice to sound casual when I ask: "Does she have a family?"

"Only child." Phil replies. "And no children with her husband. But I googled around and found an interview with a Connecticut arts magazine from a couple of years ago."

"What did it say?" I wonder.

"She told them that she had given a child up once, when she was recovering from mental illness. And that she uses the sorrow she feels over that in a lot of her paintings. As a source of inspiration."

"How corny." I snort.

"Maybe." Phil cocks his head to the side. "I printed it, it's in here."

He hands me the folder, filled with lots of neatly stapled material. I look up at him.

"You did all this even though you were sick?"

"I said I'd do it." He mumbles and shrugs, smiling an embarrassed-looking smile.

"Thank you." I tell him sincerely.

"You're welcome."

We're silent for a moment, looking at each other and it's starting to feel uncomfortable but then he says:

"I should go. My mom was not happy about me going out so soon after being sick; I had to remind her that I'm a legal adult."

"Wish I could do the same." I roll my eyes and he laughs.

"Do you want to hang sometime?" He then asks. "I could teach you some more parkour, though I'm pretty sure you'll be the one instructing me when I come back for my summer internship."

"I'd love that." I say and I feel myself beaming ridiculously. "I'm grounded for the rest of this week though."

"Oh, right." He looks disappointed. "I'll be back at school. But you'll have a computer then, right? I wrote all my numbers, e-mail and skype in there." He points at the folder in my hand and grins. "I would come up here again but all the security people downstairs sort of creep me out."

His grin is very cute I find.

"It's probably for the best." I say, rising to see him out. "I don't want to tempt fate with my dad."

"I don't either." His eyes shoot open in mock horror before he gives me a one-armed hug and steps into the elevator. "E-mail me when you get your laptop back!" Is the last thing he says before the doors slide closed. It's not until I get back to the great room that I notice I'm still smiling.

…

_**Christian**_

I decide to go back to Escala for lunch after my morning meetings. My schedule is clear for a few hours since I was meant to have Miss Anastasia Steel e in my office. I think about her in the car, wondering idly what she's doing and if she blushes as much in a conference room as she does when she's with me. I love her blush; I simply wish I knew what she was blushing about. It's so hard to tell if she is as intrigued by me as I am by her. And now she'll be gone for a week, I'll have to wait to know. Fucking wait. I'm not a patient man, never have been.

"Taylor!" I snap suddenly as impulse strikes me with all its might. "I need you to arrange for the company jet to be ready for take-off tomorrow morning at ten."

"Very good, Mr. Grey." Taylor answers without hesitation. "Where to?"

"New York."

…

"So, I'm going to be grounded in New York now?" Amber asks in disbelief after I break the news of the trip and announcing that she'll be going with me.

"Not quite." I respond after swallowing a spoonful of the broccoli soup Mrs. Jones has prepared for lunch. "I actually decided you've been punished enough, what with your being so sick all weekend. As of tomorrow you're no longer grounded."

"Oh." Amber frowns before looking up at me; a mix of suspicion and insecurity in her eyes: "Are you serious?"

"I wouldn't tell you so if I wasn't would I?" I snap at her and then add in a softer tone: "I don't joke about such matters, I'm not that cruel."

She looks apologetic for a moment and then grins widely.

"Cool." She says with a spark of excitement. "I've never been to New York."

"I know." I smirk at her before turning serious and saying sternly. "However, that your grounding is over does not mean there won't be rules. Because there will be. And I'll have one of the girls at the office come with us to keep you company during the day when I have meetings."

Amber's face drops and her smile disappears.

"A babysitter?" She sighs.

"Think of it as an assistant that you have to listen to and obey." I suggest.

She lets out a little snort of laughter and then shrugs.

"Oh well, it beats being grounded any day." She says with a twinkle in her eyes. "Can I be excused? I'd like to go pack."

"You finished your food, go ahead." I acquiesce, thinking about how fucking amazing it is on the rare occasions where I don't have to tell her fifty times to eat up. As she's about to leave the room, Amber walks around the breakfast bar and kisses me quickly on the cheek before she scurries off. The sudden and unexpected touch make me flinch somewhat, but the gesture makes me warm inside. I'm going to enjoy taking my daughter on a trip. It'll be another first.

…

**This chapter was probably not my best but at least things are on the go! I apologize for any mistakes; I wrote it quickly because I wanted to get it out there before I disappear for a few days. Hopefully next update will be on Tuesday or Wednesday. In the meantime; PLEASE do review and let me know how you like it and if you have ideas for what will happen in New York **

**X**

**Thank you SO much for the overwhelming response to the last chapter, I'm so wonderfully happy about old as well as new readers! I welcome the new ones to the story Do continue to read and review, because you are truly my biggest drive and inspiration to keep on writing! Thank you. S**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Amber**_

I can't believe that my grounding is over! It's the following morning and I'm almost jumping where I stand in the foyer with Taylor, waiting for dad to come so we can go to the airport. The feeling of freedom is really incredible; I hadn't realized that I was walking around with a weight in my chest that is now tons lighter. I still half expect dad to change his mind but I also kind of know that he won't be that unfair.

"Do you have everything?" Dad asks me as he turns up holding a small leather bag, pretty much the same size as my own.

"Yeah." I nod as we step into the elevator. "You said only a few days, right?"

"Yes." Dad confirms. "Until Friday at the longest. Don't worry, whatever you forgot you'll be able to find there."

"I didn't forget anything." I say in a determined voice and dad smirks sideways at me but doesn't say anything.

When we reach dad's company jet we're met by a tall, slim girl with a huge fake blonde hair and plastered pink smile. I try not to grimace at her as I mutter to dad:

"You hired Corporate Barbie to chaperone me?"

"Sch!" Dad hisses at me and says in a professional tone to the Barbie: "Olivia, this is my daughter Amber. Amber, meet my company's newest office intern Olivia."

I force a smile that I think is polite and shake hands with Olivia, who coos with an ear-to-ear grin:

"SO nice to meet you, Amber!"

"Yeah, likewise." I murmur, I don't really like it when people talk to me as if I'm Ava's age.

I notice that when Olivia turns to shake hands with dad her smile turns hesitant and nervous and she seems way more jumpy; she's probably really intimidated by him like all other women on the planet. Except maybe Ana Steele of course, she seems kind of able to keep her wits around my father. Dad, Olivia and me all get into the jet and I'm starting to really see how nervy Corporate Barbie is. It can't just be dad.

"Are you scared of flying, Olivia?" I ask her, trying to sound friendly as we enter the aircraft and are greeted by the staff.

Dad raises an eyebrow as Olivia lets out a little laugh.

"Right on the money there." She smiles sheepishly. "I don't really get along with heights."

"Oh, don't worry." I tell her. "Dad is really into safety, of all the jets in the world this is probably like the most unlikely to crash."

"Actually it is." Dad confirms and sits down in one of three armchairs around a little wooden table. He fastens his seat belt immediately; Olivia and I do the same and I feel a tingle of excitement; I've only been in dad's jet once before. When everyone in the family was going to his place in Aspen for a two-week holiday. Dad of course went back to Seattle after four days when some crisis with a German wind force company went into a crisis or something. It was still fun to fly in the jet though; since it's so much smaller than a regular airplane you feel it's every turn and movement way more. Which Olivia probably won't like but I think is super cool. When I turn off my phone I notice how dad slips Olivia two pills and mutters something about relaxing before he pushes a button at the side of his chair. Our flight attendant slash air stewardess slash I don't know the different but her name is Dorrie comes out in a second.

"Anything you need before take-off, Mr. Grey?" She asks with an ear-to-ear smile. _What's with those?_

"Yes, please." Dad clips of businesslike as ever. "For now just a glass of water for Ms. Hansen here."

"Right away sir." Dorrie disappears and dad looks over at me.

"Did you want anything, Amber?" He asks and I just shake my head.

"Just to get in the air." I tell him and a smile flashes over his face.

"That's my girl." He mutters, sounding pleased.

Olivia blushes. Almost immediately after she's swallowed her pills Taylor comes into the jet and sits down on his own in a chair away from the rest of ours. And almost immediately after that the jet starts rolling off on the ground. En route towards the big Apple and for now, I allow myself to believe the illusion that everything is as good as it seems.

…

_**Christian**_

"Your daughter is adorable, Mr. Grey." Olivia, the intern, says to me when we're about half-way to New York. She seems much calmer about flying now that we're actually in the air and most likely because of the pills I gave her. I glance up from my paper and look to where Olivia's looking; at Amber who's sleeping with her jean jacket covering her body and her hair covering her face. I stand up and reach over the table towards her, push her hair back and press a button on the side to fold the back of her armchair somewhat. I take her jacket, roll it up and put it as a pillow under her head before I take off my own suit jacket and put over her. It's bigger so it's closer to a blanket. I sit back down and Olivia looks as if she's about to melt before she looks guilty about not having taken my initiative herself. She is after all supposed to be here to look after Amber. I don't feel entirely comfortable with the arrangement but Andrea was simply out of the question; her schedule is crazy enough as it is without sudden trips out of town. Ros couldn't be spared either, which is unfortunate also because I would quite have liked to have her with me on the meetings Andrea has booked for me in the next few days.

"Thank you for saying so." I tell Olivia in polite response to her compliment regarding Amber. "I must say I'm quite pleased myself."

"You should be, sir." Olivia says eagerly and I have the feeling she thinks sweet-talking about my kid is going to score her points with me professionally. Olivia seems to sense my light irritation and quickly says something else:

"May I ask where her mother is?" _No, you fucking may not! _Did the pills make her stupid? Everybody fucking knows that I'm a very private person and that my professional self is the only one most people will ever know.

I just glare at her and watch with vague satisfaction how she turns red as a damn tomato.

"Olivia" I say to her coldly. "I'm paying you a very big amount of money to come on this trip as a professional chaperone for my daughter, not to ask personal questions about our lives."

"I… I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Grey" Olivia stutters. "I was out of line."

"I believe you were instructed quite thoroughly by Taylor? Or should I be reprimanding him as well?"

I bore my eyes into hers, I know that has an intimidating effect on most people. I know I've hit the spot when she simply shakes her head and looks everywhere but at my eyes. I sigh and look back down on my newspaper.

"Please pay attention to the nature of your questions from now on." I say without looking at her.

"Of course, Mr. Grey. I apologize." I hear her reply.

I was probably more aggravated by someone asking me personal questions than I normally am, although I truly do fucking hate it. This particular question set me off though because I don't like to think about Amber's mother, ever. Especially not when I don't know where she is for the first time in fifteen years.

…

**Sorry it's so short, I'm working on another one that I'll have out tomorrow or Sunday at the latest! Thank you so incredibly much to all my followers and reviewers, I need to get on to responding individually to you to tell you how much I appreciate your feedback. It means so much knowing that people read and appreciate the story! Please keep telling me what you think,**

**Xx**

**S**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Anastasia**_

I can't believe my eyes when I get back to my hotel after a successful meeting with an author and I see Christian Grey casually leaning against one of the tall tables in the hotel bar. What the hell is he doing here? I suddenly think he might be stalking me and I feel a tingle of something. Excitement? Flattery? He sees me and a strange sort of smirk spreads across his face as he throws a bill beside his drink and walks through the glass doors into the hotel lobby.

"Ana?" My coworker Jack Hyde nudges my elbow. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you at the place later. Eight thirty, ok?" I mumble without looking at him. We're going out with the author, Vincent Cole, to celebrate his signing with us. I've never much enjoyed that part of signing a deal but this time I feel I've earned it. This author is my pursuit, I'm the one who has fought to get the company to publish his manuscript.

Jack looks hesitantly at Christian Grey and narrows his eyes somewhat before he slides off towards the elevators.

"Anastasia." _God, it's exciting when he says my name._

"Mr. Grey." I say, finding it easier to act normal while being formal and professional. "How bizarre to see you here.

"Bizarre?" He raises an eyebrow, looking amused. "Well, I'll take that. I had some business to attend to in New York, I just had a meeting here in fact."

"Oh." I say, feeling disappointed for some reason.

"And I happened to know that you were staying here so I thought I might linger and see if you wanted to have a drink with me." His smirk reappears but I'm actually a bit annoyed. Does his stalker tendencies know no bounds?

"How did you know that I'd be staying here?"

"Anastasia, I own S.I.P and this hotel." He says in a slightly bored but sill gentle tone. "I know that this is where they accommodate their employees during New York business trips."

"Oh" I say again, blushing. How didn't I know that this guy owns the company I work for? And more, why didn't Kate tell me? Though she mentioned sometime that she didn't keep track on all Grey's companies.

"So." Christian says in a businesslike tone. "How about that drink?"

"I'm meeting my colleague at eight thirty." I mutter, feeling like a child who's just been proven wrong by an adult.

"So that leaves us…" He checks his hideously expensive watch. "Nearly three hours."

"I have to change before." I tell him and he smiles a little.

"So two hours." He says. "Where are you meeting him?"

I give him the name of the place and he looks like the cat that got the cream.

"So two and a half hours if you let me drive you."

"You don't have to do that." I protest. "Let's do drinks."

He smiles vaguely.

"I know a good place not far from here." He holds out and arm for me. "Shall we?"

I take his arm, blushing and feeling a little silly but holding my head up high as we get out of the hotel. The place he knows is, at it appears, only about fifty yards from the hotel and across the street. It's modern and filled with lilies and white roses but because of the big, green velvet curtain it still has a cozy and intimate feel to it. We are sat at a table and a server comes along within a second with the menu. It's a proper wine bar; the only thing they have apart from exclusive wines and champagnes is half a page on the menu with different kinds of nuts. Christian is not looking at the menu but at me and I do my best to ignore that and keep reading. It takes so much focus that when the waitress is back I have no idea what I want. She looks at me expectantly and so does Christian.

"Whatever he's having" I mutter to the server as I hand her back my menu. "Thanks."

I've never made the effort to learn very much about wine; I'm no heavy drinker. Christian Grey smirks and orders some kind of white and dry. We have too gigantic glasses before us in what feels like hours but is more like seconds. It feels so long because of Grey's cryptic gaze. I take a sip of my wine; it's delicious.

"I really like it when you blush." He says suddenly. "It's the only time you give anything away about how you're feeling. I'm glad it happens so often."

I, of course, blush.

"I could say the same for you." I tell him. "You don't give much away either."

"I'm a private person." He runs a finger over his lip and I bite down on my own because of the effect it has on me when he does that.

"Don't bite your lip, Anastasia." His voice is low and dark. "It drives me crazy."

Crazy how? I glare at him. What does this infuriating man want with me, really? Is he interested or does he think I'm just some silly bookworm? I'm guessing the latter, and that he thinks that he should get to know me because I'm his future sister-in-law's best friend. But if that's the case I don't want to stay here because every second I look at this beautiful person, the more I'm drawn to him. I need to get out before I get my heart broken. I scramble my bag and scarf together and rise with a little stumble. Christian is immediately, to my great annoyance, standing beside me holding onto my elbow.

"I have to go." I mutter. "Thank you for the drink."

"Not much to thank me for, given you've barely touched it." Christian remarks dryly.

"You're paying for it." I say boldly, holding my head up high. "I can't afford it."

"Jesus, Ana." Christian growls; calling me by the name I prefer for once. "I don't expect you to pay for anything when you're with me, it was me who dragged you out. And I don't see why you have to go, we just got here."

"I need to go over a manuscript." I lie, blushing. "I just realized."

He looks at me with those eyes but doesn't say anything, just takes his wallet from his inside pocket and produces a hundred-dollar bill (what the fuck?) which he throws on the table.

"I'll walk you back to the hotel." He says, still holding onto my arm as he leads me out of the bar.

I'm too exhausted by our weird conversation to argue that I'm perfectly able to cross a street on my own. Not to mention that I practically melt from just his light touch.

"Why haven't you asked me to call you by your first name?" I blurt out once we're on the street, waiting for the lights to shift. He looks surprised by my question.

"You do it anyway." He comments.

"Not all the time." I protest. "And you don't say anything when I call you Mr. Grey."

"The only people who call me by my first name are my family and very few close friends; it's the way I prefer it."

He still hasn't asked me. Annoyed, I walk out on the street as the light turns green and what happens next is so fast that I hardly realize it's happening. A car is speeding towards me, tires screeching as the driver hits the breaks and I'm paralyzed, thinking for part of a second that I'm going to be run over. Then suddenly I'm yanked back and in Christian Grey's arms, looking up at him. He's gazing down at me. Kiss me, I think in my head not knowing where it's coming from. He looks as if he's about to for a second but then his face shifts and he looks angry.

"Shit Ana!" He growls. "Why didn't you move?"

He doesn't let go of me but keeps an arm around my shoulder as he quickly leads me across the street towards the hotel. I can't come up with an answer for that so I just shake my head.

"The fucker was going against red lights." He says in a softer tone. "And then he just sped away, I wish I had taken the time to check his plates."

"Never mind." I sigh. "Nothing happened."

"You could have died." We've reached the hotel doors.

"But I didn't" I look up at him as he runs his hand down to my hand, and strokes my thumb with his. Then he suddenly yanks it away.

"I should stay away from you." He says curtly. _No, why?! _"You don't need me in your life."

_Yes I do._

"I'll be in touch shortly to discuss Kate and Elliott's party." He says, back to business. "Enjoy your time in New York and congratulations on your success at work. Goodbye, Miss Steele."

He turns and gracefully disappears into the mass of people. I stand dumbstruck. What the hell just happened?

_**Christian**_

I'm practically in shatters as I get back to my New York apartment. Taylor has wisely enough said nothing on the drive here and I'm pleased to see that Olivia and Amber are not yet back from the Guggenheim. Though I hope they come back soon, my daughter might be able occupy my mind some. I don't know what I was thinking, trying to pursue Anastasia Steele. She's too innocent and sweet to ever want to be a part of my lifestyle. Not to mention that I'm no longer sure she even has a submissive bone in that delicious body of hers. Oh god, how much fun it would be to tame her… Teach her, discipline her and most of all _please _her. Yes, I want to please her. I want her to want me. I'm pretty sure she does want me, that kiss-me-Christian look she gave me earlier told me that. But I think she wants me in the way she can't have me, hearts and flowers way.

"Welcome back, Mr. Grey." Miss Lewis who takes care of this apartment greets me in the kitchen and living area of the apartment. "Can I get you anything?"

"Some white wine would be good, thanks Cora." I mutter.

Within seconds, she has produced a glass of wine and I sip it gratefully. Then I hear noise from the hallway and shortly after, Olivia and Amber comes back. Amber looks happier than I've seen her in a very long while and her cheeks finally seem to have some color again. Her smile is infectious and for a moment I'm able to push the thoughts of the intriguing Miss Steele aside.

"Hey you." I greet Amber after nodding at Olivia. "How was your afternoon?"

"Good." Amber answers; somewhat fleetingly I think but don't pay attention to it. "We saw some good paintings."

"I'm glad to hear it. You can tell me about it when we have dinner at your aunt's restaurant."

I turn my gaze to Olivia.

"Your duty for the day is fulfilled, or however you'd like to put it." I tell her. "Relax, enjoy the evening. Cora knows where it's good to go, whatever you do is on me, just use the card I gave you for expenses."

"Thank you Mr. Grey." Olivia says, looking relieved at the thought of not having to spend her evening in my company. "I had fun today, Amber" She says to my daughter. "I look forward to tomorrow."

I don't tell her not to stay out too late; if she's professional at all she won't anyway. I look over at Amber.

"Are you ready to leave right away or do you want to change first?" I ask her.

"Do you think I'm dressed right for Mia's place?" She asks me back.

I look her over. She's wearing a loose, mustard yellow matte silk dress that goes down to her knees and has pearl embroideries around the neck and hem. She's matched it with brown leather sandals with little white beads, and I notice that the sandals are the same leather as her backpack.

"You look fine." I tell her. "Get a jacket though."

She reaches into the backpack hanging off her arm and takes out a cream colored lace jacket. She smiles impishly and I smirk back.

"Ok then." I say. "Let's go."

…

_**Another sort of short one but PLEAE do let me know what you think about it in a review! In the next chapter, exciting things will happen… Thank you all for reading and for your support and reviews **_

_**S**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Amber**_

As soon as we get to Mia's newest restaurant I smirk and I notice how dad rolls his eyes. It's so typical Mia. Called _Your Second Home_ it's about the coziest restaurant venue I've ever seen. The tables are wide, robust sofa tables surrounded by comfortable sofas and armchairs overloaded with pillows and blankets. For the sofa groups closest to the wall there are plasma screens on the wall with wireless headphones hanging under them. The waitresses walk around in luxurious soft slippers and home wear suits. Everything is warm, inviting colors but the decoration is sparse which makes it really tasteful and oddly classy even though everyone there is so casual (except for me and dad, who is still in his work suit). It's amazing.

"Hiiiii!" Mia comes pattering in a pair of gold slippers, loose thin silk pants and a kimono. She attacks me with hugs and kisses and then gives dad the same treatment, in spite of his stiff response. Dad doesn't like unexpected hugs and stuff. "Why didn't you tell me earlier that you were coming, I would have made much bigger plans for you guys!"

"It was a quick decision." Dad says, not able to resist smiling back at my aunt. "And as far as the big plans go, I'm working while I'm here. Meetings."

"Well, what's Amber going to do when you're being boring?" Mia insists, rolling her eyes at dad who narrows his as we follow Mia towards a table with three huge armchairs around it. It's in a secluded corner, with drapes half covering it so it's a bit more private from the rest of the place. When dad tells Mia about Olivia and how she's here to keep me company Mia screams out.

"Christian!" She yells at dad (I think she's the only one who can yell at him unpunished). "Send that chick home immediately, I want to take care of my niece. You didn't need to bring a babysitter." She spits the word out as if it's something completely disgusting.

"I thought you'd be busy." Dad explains with a shrug.

"I'm always busy, but I can always make time for Amber." Mia says determined and smiles at me. I smile back and she turns sad. "Especially now, I am just so happy that you came here."

Her lip starts to tremble as she takes my hand. Ignoring dad completely, she looks into my eyes and asks:

"How are you holding up?"

I know she's talking about grandpa. It's insane that it's only been a little more than a week since the funeral. Feels like a year.

"Ok." I mumble quietly. "I miss him so much though. What about you?"

"I'm thinking it will get better." Mia says and gives my hand a squeeze before she looks at dad. "Right Christian? Things will get better soon."

"They will." Dad confirms calmly, but he's looking at me when he says it and the corner of his mouth twists up in a little smile before he takes my other hand in his left one and Mia's in his right. We sit like that for a moment until it gets weird. Then I pull my hands back and earn another smile from both of them. I notice dad squeezing Mia's hand before he lets go.

"Ok then!" Mia exclaims. "Time for happy time! Everything you want is on the house."

…

I haven't eaten very much, to Mia's and dad's dismay. I blamed tiredness but it's really more nerves than anything else. I'm worried dad might find out that I haven't spent all day at the Guggenheim museum today. We were there for a little while, but a very short while and then I told Olivia that I didn't like it much and that dad had given me a tip before leaving for his meeting. A tip about a small gallery that showed paintings by east coast artists. I had found in the folder that Phil gave me yesterday that they had lots of paintings by Leila Williams in this particular gallery.

"Are you sure this is ok with Mr. Grey?" was the first thing Olivia said when we arrived and got out of the cab.

"Yeah, absolutely." I told her and hoped she wouldn't see through my lie. I suck at lying. "Call him and ask if you're unsure." I added. "I think he's in a meeting but he'll pick up if it's me or you calling in case it's an emergency."

She looked hesitant but then smiled and we walked into the gallery. The owner, a really chic and very beautiful dark-skinned woman who was chatting to a young receptionist guy, came and greeted us, introducing herself as Gabrielle Harding. She asked if we were looking for anything in particular.

"Yes please." I said, trying to sound as adult as I possibly could. "My name is Amber Grey and I wanted to see if you might have any paintings by Leila Williams?"

"Leila Williams." Ms. Harding looked surprised for a moment but collected herself quickly. "Yes, we have several. She's a friend of mine. Please follow me."

She led us to a room further back, where every single painting bore resemblance to the one in our room and those in the foyer at Escala. It was such a weird feeling, it almost felt like coming home. Totally ridiculous. Olivia looked around the room.

"These are very nice."

Gabrielle Harding looked oddly at her.

"I think they're sad." I told them both and walked closer to an abstract in dark purple and wine red. "This looks like inner pain."

"It was how she described that particular one too when I asked her about it on the phone." Ms. Harding smiled sadly. "May I ask if you know Leila?"

"Not personally." I said fleetingly. "But my father has a few of her paintings and I suppose I relate to them somehow. I wanted to see more of her work upfront."

Inside I was excited. Someone who really, actually knew my stalker object was before me!

"Do you know how I can get in touch with Ms. Williams?" I asked innocently, anticipating the answer but intending to fish. I could see Olivia listening attentively.

"She's been missing for a while now." Ms. Harding looked troubled. "She's had a rough life; she had troubles with her husband. The talk said she had an affair and that her lover died in an accident just before she was about to leave her husband." Ms. Harding sighs. "For periods of her life; Leila has been suffering from mental illness and severe depression. I felt that she always walked a fine balance but her paintings and therapy was enough to keep her healthy before but the death of her boyfriend made her fall off the edge. Then she disappeared and nobody knows where she is."

I don't know why it affected me so much, maybe because I think this Leila woman may have something to do with my mother, but tears started to trickle down my face slowly after Ms. Harding was done.

"Oh I'm sorry darling" She exclaimed as Olivia just looked puzzled.

"That's very sad." I said as I angrily wiped the tears away. "I hope Ms. Williams is safe too. Thank you for your time, I'll um… I'll have someone come in and place an order for me shortly."

"Very good Miss Grey." Ms. Harding produced a business card and handed it to me. "Thank you."

Once out of the gallery Olivia and I sat quietly in the cab all the way back to dad's apartment. In the elevator I suddenly felt worried that she might mention where we had been to dad, casually since she thought it was ok, and I turned to her quickly.

"I'm really really sorry." I told her. "But I wasn't being honest when I said earlier that dad was ok with us going to the gallery. Please don't tell him, I'll to tell him myself."

I said the last because I knew that I would have to tell him; I couldn't risk him finding out some other way or I'd be dead. So that's why I couldn't manage much food at dinner with Mia. Once we get back to dad's apartment he walks into the kitchen.

"I admit that it was a strange dinner menu" Dad calls over to me as he opens a bottle of wine. "But it wasn't bad so I would have thought you'd be able to manage a grilled cheese sandwich."

Mia's restaurant theme was "homey" food, which meant it was basically comfort food all of it. I noticed that a lot of the guests were there alone.

"It was good, I just wasn't hungry." I mumble as I sit at the kitchen island. It's still sort of dark, dad hasn't turned on the lights so it's just the moon shining in through the big windows. Good, confession will be easier if I can't see his eyes. Then, as if on cue, he turns them on. He sits down opposite me at the island and places a glass of water in front of me before sipping on his wine. He didn't have any at the restaurant since he gave Taylor the night off after he dropped us. So dad drove himself.

We sit silently for a few moments.

"Is there anything you want to tell me, Amber?" Dad then asks. He looks at me, not demanding but more like curious.

"Um… Yeah." I say and clear my throat before taking a sip of my water. I spill a little because I'm nervous. I just have such a bad feeling that dad is going to react like a maniac. And also I feel very guilty because I've gone behind his back on the first day of being ungrounded. I let out a trembling sigh and dad frowns.

"Jesus, Amber." He mutters. "You're starting to worry me; what is it?"

"Can we turn the lights off again?" I blurt out, not knowing where that came from.

Dad looks confused, but he actually gets up and turns the lights of. I see his shadow as he sits back down.

"Ok." He says. "Now tell me."

"We weren't just at the Guggenheim today." I spit out quickly.

"Oh god, was that it?" Dad sighs. "You didn't need to get yourself all worked up about that; I told you both that you could do whatever you wanted as long as it was on the list I gave to Olivia."

"Hm…"

"Aha." Dad's voice is clipped. "You did something not on the list; which I told you specifically that you would need to ask me about first."

"I'm sorry" I whisper. "I'm sorry. I just really wanted to go to this gallery and I… forgot."

I'm a terrible liar. When dad doesn't say anything but his shoulders tense I add:

"And I just figured it would be ok since you like art too and there were a lot of museums and stuff on the list…"

"Why didn't you tell me when I asked you how the Guggenheim was?"

"I was scared of your reaction." That at least is true.

Dad sighs again. I have no idea if he believes me since I can't see his face in the dark. _Smart move, Amber. _I get an answer almost immediately.

"I'm not sure I believe all this, Amber." Dad says. "Why did you absolutely have to go to that gallery? What was so special about it that you couldn't ask me about it tonight and go tomorrow?"

I squirm where I sit, thinking about my options. I want to tell him everything, everything that's been going on in my mind lately. I should be able to tell him, he's my freaking dad! But I'm so scared it will ruin everything and that he'll go back to just not wanting me. In spite of my being grounded and sick, this first week of living with my dad has not been all bad. For the first time ever I've actually kind of felt that my dad is really my parent and not just someone I spend a few days visiting a couple of times a month. But it's obviously made me a cry baby because my shoulders start shaking and tears start running for the second time today.

"Amber, really!" Dad bursts out as I let out a sob. "What's the matter?"

He walks around the kitchen island and puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. He doesn't say anything for a few minutes as I just cry. When I'm starting to calm down dad's phone rings and he picks it up from his pocket.

"I have to take this." He murmurs, squeezing my shoulder again before snapping into the phone:

"Grey." He turns away from me and walks a few steps into the living area as I wipe my tears and have a sip of water. I can barely hear what he's saying.

"To Seattle?" I hear him asking. "How the fuck did you manage to lose her?" He snaps shortly after.

I wonder who he's talking to. I slip off my chair and walk closer to him. He turns around and in the dim moonlight I see the frown on his face as he holds up a finger, wordlessly telling me to wait before he roars into the phone.

"I don't fucking care if she's 'smart'" The last word has a very sarcastic edge to it. "Just fucking find her!" He calms down somewhat.

"Fine." He says curtly. "Keep me posted."

With that, he snaps his Blackberry shut and looks at me again. I don't really see his face but I can sense his fury and it kind of scares me.

"What was that about?" I ask quietly.

"None of your business." He snaps harshly and I flinch. Dad sighs and pulls me into a hug, something that doesn't happen very often.

"I'm sorry, Amber." He tells me. "I'm on edge because of this situation, it's a work thing."

"Ok" I say, a little confused. That sounded quite dramatic for a work situation. I don't say anything though. Dad sighs again.

"Let's get you to bed." He says, half pushing me out of the living area towards the bedrooms. His and mine are furthest away while the guest rooms, where Olivia sleeps, are in the other end.

As I expected; dad is still sitting on my bed when I get out of the bathroom, showered and in my nightgown. I slip into the bed and pull the cover up over my legs but remain sitting.

"So" Dad starts. "Are you going to tell me what your gallery trip was about?"

I don't want to lie. I really don't. I do it anyway.

"I'm just not used to not being able to go where I want when I want to." I tell him with a shrug. "I didn't really forget that I was supposed to tell you if we went somewhere else but I figured since Olivia was with me it was like overkill. And I knew you had meetings and stuff so…" I shrug again before adding:

"I'm really sorry. I feel so bad and it was stupid to do that on my first day of being ungrounded, I guess I let my newfound freedom get to my head." I sigh deeply. "If you want to like, ground me again I understand."

Dad looks surprised and then suddenly, he smirks.

"I think I could let it slide this one time." He says before turning serious. "But make sure you don't try the limits like this again. The places on the list I made are all big things crowded with lots of security. If you go to some obscure, small gallery I want you to have Taylor with you and that's why you need to tell me. For your safety. You understand?"

"Ok." I nod. I don't really understand why but fine. Maybe dad's afraid of someone kidnapping or something.

"Good." Dad kisses my head. "I'm glad you were honest with me, it makes everything so much easier."

The bad conscience twists in me like a knife. I haven't told him the whole truth, about that I looked through his office files and have had someone research a person that he probably doesn't want me to know about. That I've been trying to find out things about my mother which he clearly doesn't want me to know anything of either. _Maybe that's changed, _the little voice inside my head says. It's been a while since I asked dad about my mother, like ten years almost. I just remember very clearly that he didn't want to discuss it and I've always assumed that he loved her and blames me for her death. I have just thought that's why he never wanted me, because I was the reason the love of his life died. I can't think of any other explanation, she must have meant a lot to him since I've never seen him with a girlfriend, ever. I take another trembling breath and manage to get out:

"Dad…"

"Yes, Amber?" Dad looks at me kind of guardedly, as if he knows I'm about to say something he might not like. I gather up about every ounce of courage that I have before I continue.

"Could you tell me something about my mother?"

He looks completely and utterly shocked. Then he looks angry, like I expected.

"Why on earth are you asking me about her?" He asks me with a frown and I can't resist rolling my eyes at that question.

"Because I don't know anything more than her name and that she's dead." I mutter.

Dad looks very weird for a moment and then he surprises me by saying:

"What do you want to know?"

His voice is quiet and cautious but my face cracks up in a smile. He's actually going to tell me something!

"Did you love her a lot?" I ask the first thing that comes to me and I'm kind of surprised by myself now. But this is what's been eating me more or less my whole life.

Dad frowns again.

"Why do you want to know that?"

I shrug and dad keeps the frown on his face when he says:

"I'm not sure this conversation is such a good idea."

"What?" I burst out. "Why? Please dad, I know already everything but I just want to hear it from you!"

Now dad looks at me in alarm and grabs my shoulder.

"What is it you think you know, Amber?" He asks in a low voice. "Tell me!" He gives my shoulder a little shake when I don't reply at once.

"Um…" I frown too. "That you loved her?"

Dad looks more relaxed but he rolls his eyes as he lets go of me and I keep on, looking down on my knees.

"I know you think it was my fault that she died." I mumble and to my great annoyance a stupid freaking tear runs down my cheek. I see dad stiffen as he clenches his fist. "I know that's why you never wanted me, because I killed the woman you loved."

The silence is deathly until dad breaks it.

"Oh Amber." He sighs.

"I'm right though, aren't I?" I look up at him, face full of tears. "You never wanted me, you don't even want me now but you had to take me because grandma didn't want me either anymore. And I kind of get that because she's old and I'm not even her child but I am yours so it must be because you loved my mother and couldn't bear to see me or something because I'm really not _that _horrible."

Words come out of me like a fountain and so do the tears. By the end of my speech I'm sobbing and dad looks at me like he's scared of me. Then he cups my face in his hands and looks straight into my eyes.

"Is that really what you've been thinking?" He asks me and I nod, unable to get any words out.

"Oh baby." Dad sighs again, bringing my head to his chest and putting his arms around me. "Why haven't you told me this?"

"You're not easy to talk to." I snivel. "You just get mad like all the time."

Dad stiffens.

"I'm sorry you feel this way." He says tightly. "If I had known…" Another sigh. "I didn't love your mother Amber, and I've always wanted you. So has your grandmother. You've got everything wrong."

I push away from him and wipe my tears. I don't believe him.

"I was the one who wanted you to move in with me, your grandmother would happily have had you move with her to Kate and Elliott's, or even to a smaller place of your own." Dad explains. "And the reason for why you were raised by your grandparents is not because I didn't want you, it's because I was afraid I couldn't be a good father to you, for all kinds of reasons that I won't get into. And I knew for a fact how good my own parents were so I begged them to take you in and they gave into me. It was for you, I wanted you to have the best upbringing you could have had."

Something he said lingers in me.

"You didn't love my mother."

"No." He watches me warily. "I didn't. I cared for her, she was a sweet girl and we had a… relationship. But that was all. She wanted more, I didn't and then after she left me she found out she was pregnant."

"So I was a mistake." I state. I guess I figured that I wasn't planned since dad was so young when he had me but still.

"I wouldn't put it like that." Dad says and plays with the cuff of his shirt. "Mistakes are things you regret and I don't regret having you. Don't ever think that, Amber."

I sit silent for a while, trying to take in everything dad has just told me. He regards me carefully.

"Why have I never met my other grandparents?" I ask. "I don't even know my mother's last name, nobody does. I asked around when I was little."

Dad looks almost pained for a moment before rubbing his temples and saying:

"Amber… There are things about your mother that I will have to tell you someday. I had hoped not to have to until you were eighteen but I suppose you'll have to know sooner."

Oh my god, WHAT?

"However" Dad adds. "Tonight is not the night for this discussion. Not here in New York. I promise to tell you everything you need to know when we get home but I need a few days to prepare for it. Ok?"

"Ok." I say breathlessly, completely confused and shocked. And kind of worried, what is he going to tell me?

"So for now" Dad continues. "Can it be enough for now that I tell you that you are indeed much wanted and highly loved and that you have my sincere apologies for ever making you feel otherwise?"

This is so surreal. Dad's looking super intently at me and, not really able to speak, I nod. Dad takes my hand and squeezes it before his phone rings again. He looks down at the display, appearing puzzled about the caller id.

"Anastasia?" He answers after the second ring and stands up from the bed. "Anastasia, are you okay? You sound strange."

Is it Ana? Why is she calling dad at eleven thirty at night? I frown as dad turns away from me.

"Anastasia, have you been drinking?" He speaks in a hushed voice but my hearing is pretty good. "I'm… curious. Where are you?"

Another pause when Ana says something.

"The same bar you mentioned earlier?" Dad asks, starting to sound frustrated. "Anastasia, tell me. Now."

I think I hear a giggle in the other end.

"Ana, so help me, where the fuck are you?" Dad roars into the phone and I crouch back a little bit. Scary daddy's back in town. "Ana!" He shouts again before she apparently hangs up. Dad stares at the phone for a moment before he presses down a button. Taylor, the only person he has on speed dial. He mutters something about tracing phones and texting him the address before he hangs up and turns to me.

"Olivia is not back yet." He tells me surly. "She was obviously not the right person to bring here. You'll have to come with me."

"I can stay on my own." I mumble.

"No!" Dad looks irritated. "You've just had a fucking breakdown, I won't leave you on your own after that. Get up, you're coming."

I don't bother asking where we're going; I think I've pretty much figured it out. He's off to rescue a drunk Ana Steele from some bar somewhere. Jesus, she's a grown-up and she's known dad for four days. But her drunken phone call did admittedly come at a good time. It'll at least be another while before dad figures out I have been looking for Leila Williams. I step into my shoes as dad waits impatiently, holding up my jacket for me. I feel a little ridiculous going off into the night in my PJs but I don't really care. Dad puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me into the elevator. He keeps it there as we go down.

"It wasn't a breakdown." I mutter between the thirtieth and twenty-ninth floor.

"Excuse me?" Dad snaps awake from whatever he's been thinking about and I mumble.

"I didn't have a breakdown, I just cried a little bit."

Dad looks oddly at me before smiling briefly.

"Ok, so I want you with me for moral support." He says. "Does that sound better?"

I return his smile before I say:

"Much better."

He squeezes my shoulder before releasing it as we exit through the elevator doors.

…

**Hey people! Thank you as always for following, favoriting and above all reviewing! It means so much to have you along for the ride and every time someone new finds their way to this story my heart skips a beat. Like it does when you oldies review it too ;) **

**This chapter might not be the most realistic one so far but I hope you'll forgive me and please tell me what you think! I felt that I was walking a fine line writing about so many things I know very little about… Anyway, thank you for reading and please leave a review on your way out! xx**


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning for sex scene in this chapter! Oh wait. Perhaps that kind of warning is not necessary in the Fifty Shades universe... Hope you like the update, please tell me what you think!**

_**Christian**_

I wake up at five thirty, like clockwork. I turn my head to the side and see her again. _Jesus fucking Christ, she's beautiful. _Anastasia Steele, what has the damn woman done with me? Last night, I lay awake for hours watching her sleep in my bed. Glorious, in spite of her passing out due drunkenness, heavy vomiting and nearly being violated by the fucking buffoon she works with. I wanted to have the fucker's head on a plate when I saw him forcing himself over her outside the bar Taylor traced her phone to. He was almost as drunk as she was but what kind of an idiot does not understand the word 'no' in any kind of state? I wanted to punch his face in but Miss Steele quickly needed my help with other matters when she threw up all over the sideway and on some poor bypasser's shoes. I had Amber wait with Taylor in the car and the look on her face was cautious to say the least when I assisted Miss Steele into the backseat of the car and asked my daughter to get in the front. She did without question and remained silent for the rest of the ride. I appreciate that beyond measure; I appreciate her beyond measure. I can't help but feel that Anastasia chose the wrong night to behave stupidly and need me to come riding like a fucking knight in shining armor (or in this case a shiny rental car). I had her out of my filthy mind, and was set on spending these remaining days in New York with Amber. If I'm going to ruin the relationship I feel we've slowly started to build this past week as soon as we get back to Seattle, I want to at least have as good a time with her as possible until then. Because fucking ruined it will be, I doubt my daughter will ever forgive me when I've told her what I have to. I know I can't, so why the fuck should she? I've not only lied to her all her life but I've made her feel unwanted, unloved and insecure. Unintentionally and unknowingly but I still did it. One would have thought that I'd fucking learned from the experience of my own childhood. But that was it, I didn't want Amber to grow up with someone broken, someone that is fifty shades of fucked up.

I gaze over at Anastasia; she's still sleeping soundly. I quietly get out of bed and put on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants to go into the home gym for a couple of hours. Hoping that it might clear my head some.

…

Amber is sitting on the couch in the living area when I get out of the gym room; I haven't heard anything but the very loud music in my ears for the past 120 minutes. My daughter is already dressed and she is watching some movie I don't recognize with the volume turned down low.

"Good morning." I sit down next to her and she jumps, not having seen me.

"Hi" she says sheepishly. "I didn't notice that you came, I have to concentrate really hard to hear what they're saying."

"Just turn the volume up" I reach for the remote.

"I don't want to wake everyone." Amber protests and snatches the remote control out of my hand.

"Don't be ridiculous." I tell her and take it back. "Cora and Olivia should be up already, and as far as Miss Steele is concerned she won't hear a thing; she's sleeping quite heavily. Taylor has been up and running since six and he is currently out shopping some new clothes for Anastasia."

Amber glares at me in disbelief. "What did he do to you in a previous life that overrules the laws this country has about slavery?"

"Nothing." I say calmly, ruffling her hair. "I pay him a lot of money, Amber."

She rolls his eyes and I shoot her a warning look. _Don't push it, baby girl. _ She smiles apologetically and I run my thumb along her hairline before rising from the couch.

"Turn it up as much as you like." I say, dropping the remote next to her.

I walk into the kitchen area to fetch myself a glass of water and I run into who are just coming from the direction of their separate bedrooms.

"Good morning Mr. Grey." Cora greets me. "What would you like me to prepare for breakfast?"

"Sort out a selection for three people please, a little of whatever there is to make."

"Will do sir." Cora skips off to the refrigerator and starts picking out groceries. Olivia smiles uncertainly at me and I can see her checking me out. _Just a sculpted body and a pretty face, silly girl. _

"I should tell you that you will not be needed here anymore, Olivia." I tell her and I don't give a fuck if it's harsh; I see no point in beating around the bush when it comes to anything so why should I when my daughter is concerned. Watching Olivia's face drop is quite amusing.

"Sir?" She begins uncertainly and clears her throat: "I don't see why…"

"I don't have to give you any reasons" I tell her in a tight voice. "Andrea can put you to better use at the office; I've already had Taylor book you a flight back to Seattle."

I don't particularly hold any grudge against Olivia; but I'm quite annoyed that she was out so late last night. Even if she did manage to get up at a decent hour.

"Mr. Grey, I think I should tell you something." She blurts out suddenly and I raise an eyebrow. "In private." She adds, throwing glances at Cora and to where Amber is sitting in the adjacent room.

"Fine." I say. "Come."

I walk with long steps to the study I keep in this apartment and she scurries after. I close the door behind us but don't offer her a seat. I just want to be through with this, have her go pack her bag and get on with my day.

"Amber went behind your back yesterday, sir." She says, fluttering her annoying fake eyelashes at me. "She told me that you had agreed to let her go to this little art gallery but I understood straight away that she wasn't telling the truth."

I raise an eyebrow. How fucking stupid is this person on a scale from one to ten? I groan inwardly at the realization that I'll have to become personally involved in studying the intern applications.

"Ok?" I borrow my eyes into hers for her to continue. This might be interesting.

"She asked me not to tell you, and said that she was going to tell you herself."

"So why are _you_ telling me?" I demand of her.

"Ehm…" She looks sheepish. "I figured she didn't. No offence sir but she's fifteen years old and she'd already lied to me about your being ok with me taking her to the gallery."

"Jesus." I mutter, rolling my eyes. "So you're saying she admitted to you that she'd lied?"

"Yes."

"But you said you understood straight away that she was?"

"Oh yeah." She nods eagerly.

"So why didn't you call or text to notify me?"

She shrinks before my eyes as I cross my arms over my chest.

"She said that you'd be in a meeting, I didn't want to disturb you."

I let out a snorting laughter.

"To use your own words, Miss Hansen" I say. "My daughter is fifteen. And since you're being so straight with me here; I'll return the favor: I'm not impressed by your performance. You obviously promised Amber that you would let her tell me this herself which, I may add, she did. Meaning you're going behind her back right now to try to score points with me. And let me tell you, that shit does not work on me. In addition, you haven't set a very good example staying out all night when I needed you clear and alert during the day. I use needed in the past tense because I, like I told you, do not need you here anymore. _But you didn't know that. _So you should have been back here at a decent hour."

She looks as if though she's swallowed a lemon.

"I wasn't going to fire you, Olivia, merely send you back to the office as my sister has cleared her schedule to spend time with her niece." I continue. "And I will book off some meetings myself. However, you just dug your own grave." I glare at her coldly. "You're fired, if you want a letter of recommendation you should turn to Andrea as I will not personally be writing you one."

"Your little manipulating bitch of a daughter told you to do this, didn't she?" Olivia spits out bitterly and I practically feel my eyes shooting lightnings. "Little Ambie, has daddy Warbucks wrapped around her little finger."

I lean closer to her, hovering over the fucking idiot and enjoy seeing her crumble in my shadow.

"You. Do. Not. Talk. About. My. Daughter. That. Way." I tell her slowly, in a low voice. "Amber has nothing to do with it. In fact, she'll most likely be quite upset with me for firing you. I will be sure to tell her exactly why you don't deserve her sympathy, though you will still have it. Consider that the next time you as much as think anything negative about my daughter. Sure, she shouldn't have lied to you, or me for that matter, but she admitted it and apologized. Am I right?"

She nods, staring up at me and looking pretty fucking terrified. _Good. _Taylor appears in the doorway, thank God for that.

"Taylor." I say, standing up straight. "Please escort Miss Hansen to fetch her belongings and then take her to the airport. Make sure she's properly taken care of in terms of referencing and compensation for her trouble."

I leave the room without looking back at Olivia, former office intern at Grey Enterprises Holding Inc. I'm being more than fair; she'll have what she needs to get another excellent internship within a week.

I walk back to my bedroom and I'm quite surprised when Anastasia shoots up into sitting position as soon as I enter.

"Good morning Anastasia" I say, amused by the embarrassed look on her beautiful face. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I deserve." She mutters and looks around. "Is this your apartment too?"

"Yes."

"Why did you bring me here?" She looks warily at me and I run a hand through my hair, though careful not to change my neutral facial expression.

"It was much closer to bring you here than back to the hotel." I tell her. "I didn't want to risk the insides of our rental car more than necessary."

She blushes and bites down on her fucking lip and I feel my eyes go dark. _I want to bite that lip. _

"Did you undress me?" She suddenly asks.

"Yes."

"Where did you sleep?"

"In my bed." I sigh. "The spare bedrooms are all taken."

"You slept next to me?"

"Yes."

"But we didn't…?" She looks extremely worried by the prospect and I snort.

"No Anastasia, we did not." I say tightly. "Necrophilia is not my thing, and you were practically unconscious before we even arrived."

"Where are my clothes?" _What is this interrogation?_

"I sent Taylor to have them dry-cleaned." I explain with a smirk as I fetch a shirt and a pair of pants from the closet. "He'll be back soon with some new things for you."

"That's not necessary." Anastasia stands up, covering herself with my duvet. "I have more clothes at my hotel."

"And you intend to go back there naked from the waist down?" I raise an eyebrow and she looks in under the duvet, possibly to confirm that I left her panties on. Which of course I did.

"Why did you come to rescue me?" She asks, moving closer to me. "I'm not some damsel in distress, I am perfectly able to take care of myself."

I step closer, so we're inches away from each other.

"Not last night you weren't" I inform her. "As you may recall, when I arrived the fucking gorilla you no longer work with was about to force himself on you and you were too drunk to be able to do anything about it. And then, let me remind you, you vomited as a result of too much drinking and if I guess right, not eating properly before."

She blushes again, out of anger this time maybe. I go on anyway:

"In conclusion, Anastasia, you put yourself in a lot of danger last night. What you did was incredibly reckless and stupid and I hate to think what could have happen to you."

For a moment she looks extremely vulnerable, almost as if she's about to cry and I am about to lend her a word of comfort before she snaps:

"And who are you to scold me like I'm some errant child? Really Christian, we only met last week!"

"You're lucky I'm just scolding you." My voice is stern, my Dom voice. "If you were mine, you wouldn't be able to sit for a week."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

She's mad. She's fucking irresistible when she's mad, breathing harshly and with those lips pursed. She's so close, in my face.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I moan and then I cover her mouth with mine. She lets out a little whimper of surprise but immediately puts her hands on my neck, dropping the duvet as she does, twirling my hair with her fingers. I grab onto her hair and push her head up to meet mine. My tongue is in her mouth and the taste of her is everything I imagined; fucking delicious. Suddenly, I grab onto her thighs and lift her up, not seizing to kiss her. I practically throw her on the bed and capture her hands in mine, trapping them with my one hand and pinning them down above her head as I peel down her panties. I push down my sweatpants and within seconds, I'm inside her. She lets out a little cry.

"More?" I murmur to her.

"Please" She breathes.

I fuck her, hard and slow and keep kissing her as I do. I don't think I've ever kissed anyone this much while fucking her, but then again I've never had vanilla sex before either. It's a first and it's not at all bad or uninteresting. Quite the opposite, Miss Steele is very receptive. Her hips push upwards as I thrust harder and quicker and finally we both come, exactly at the same time. She looks up at me, eyes wide and I smirk down at her before I roll around, taking her with me so she's lying on top of me, sprawled over my chest. I let go of her wrists and she moves her hands down to my hair again.

"Your hair is very soft Mr. Grey." She mumbles.

"So is yours Miss Steele." I tell her.

We lie there for a few moments, breathing heavily. Then Anastasia's hands start running down towards my shoulders and chest and that's my cue to pull out of her and rise. I do and she quickly scoots off the bed, putting on her panties again.

"Do you want to shower first or shall I?" I ask her and I feel a twinge of guilt at her confused look.

"You go ahead." She tells me.

"I'll be quick." I promise her and in two steps I'm in front of her again, once more tasting those glorious lips.

"This will be the last time I do this for a while" I mutter. "I will not touch you again until I have your written consent to do so."

"You are the strangest man I've ever met." Anastasia informs me as I let go of her. I smirk again and head into the bathroom, deliberately taking off my shirt before I even reach the door. _Oh, Miss Steele. If only you knew._

…

**Ok, that was all for now! I really hope you liked it, please let me know in a review. And thank you all for reviewing the previous chapter and as always; welcome to new readers! Your support and reviews means so much. Special thanks to dm1990 for the Jack Hyde idea – hope you liked what I did with it ;) Oh, and any lines I borrow from the book are obviously not mine… I tell you in advance because there might be some "feel it, baby" coming up ahead, hehe.**

**ChelseaBaby91:**** I'm so sorry to hear about your father! I wasn't planned either but I was lucky enough that my parents stuck through it and are actually still together. I'm very glad you're enjoying this story anyway and I was touched by your review. I hope you liked this chapter and that you'll like those that are yet to come!**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Amber**_

Dad and I leave New York in the evening two days after we went to pick up Ana from that bar. It was such a weird thing; I've never seen dad care for anyone that way ever. I didn't really see what happened from the car but at breakfast yesterday morning Ana asked dad what would happen to her colleague and dad said that he had already been fired. So I found out dad owns the publishing house Ana works at. Ana seemed so relieved when she heard that news. After that she pretty much ignored dad and only talked to me; we ended up discussing contemporary literature. Dad didn't appear surprised at all but I noticed that he rolled his eyes a little (hypocrite!) before getting back to his omelet. Ana said goodbye to me and then dad saw her to the door (and Taylor too I guess, since he drove her to her meeting). Dad came back looking really frustrated before he was all smirky and said that he had cleared his schedule for the next couple of days. These past few days we've had a really nice time, spent most of it together with Mia and yesterday evening we all went to see West Side Story on Broadway. I love that musical; I've seen the movie version like a thousand times and I lip-synced to every word of every song. It's been weird spending so much time with dad and actually enjoying it but I really have been enjoying it. He can be so fun when he wants to be. But a few times I've seen that he's looked at me weirdly, almost sadly, and I've remembered that he's going to tell me about my mother when we get home. I don't think he really wants to but no way in hell am I going to let him back down on his promise now. Who my mother is has always been the big family mystery, and it's a mystery to the public as well. Many an interviewer has probably been grilled by dad and his eyes after asking about his daughter's mother. My family stopped asking him ages ago and obviously so did I. He told everyone she was dead and gone and that the subject was not up for discussion. So then everybody started thinking he was secretly gay but I have always been convinced that he was madly in love with her and missed her like crazy. Well, I thought so until the other night. Now I don't know what to think anymore, about anything.

…

"Amber?" I wake up from my shoulder being shook lightly and look up to see dad. Woah, I've been falling asleep in moving vehicles a lot lately. I kind of always have though, they soothe me. And I still don't sleep much at night, though I'm trying to hide it from dad.

"Are we there?" I mumble with a little yawn.

"No." Dad sits back in his chair. "About twenty minutes to go, we're descending."

"Ok." I push my hair back from my face.

"Have you had a nice time?" Dad asks me suddenly, looking weird again.

"In New York? Yeah, of course!" I tell him. "Thanks for taking me, dad."

"Anytime" He smirks.

I kind of almost believe him. We say nothing else during the remainder of the flight and don't exchange that many words in the car home either. Once we're back in the penthouse it's nine thirty local time and later in New York so I'm pretty tired. Dad walks into the kitchen area and opens the fridge.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asks me.

"Um, yeah…" I think about what I want. "Some pineapple juice please."

"Sure, sit down." Dad orders me and I comply because I'm so tired. Within a minute, dad puts down a big glass before me and sits down opposite from me with a glass of white wine. I look expectantly at him as I sip my juice.

"We're back in Seattle." I say after a little while of silence.

"I know."

"You said you were going to tell me about my mother." I remind him, as if he's forgotten. Dad snorts at that.

"I know." He repeats. "I would say that we should have this discussion tomorrow morning when we're both rested but since you hardly sleep at night I think that would be rather pointless."

"You don't sleep either." I say with a blush.

"I function on very little sleep, Amber." Dad tells me. "Always have."

"Maybe I do too." I mutter.

"If you did you wouldn't fall asleep during the day so often." Dad says with raised eyebrows and a hint of a smile.

I don't say anything and it's all I have not to roll my eyes at him. Dad turns serious.

"You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you, Amber." He says. "So before I do I want to clarify that whatever decision I've made regarding this matter has been in your best interest. You understand?"

I believe the part where he says I'm not going to like whatever he's going to say. So far I've never liked anything he's done "in my best interest". I nod to confirm that I heard him and he goes on:

"Like I told you the other night, I had a relationship with your mother. I knew from the start that it was not ever going to be anything but sexual and she entered the whole thing on those premises as well."

It sounds like a business arrangement. I shudder slightly at the thought.

"So it had to come to an end when she started to want more from me." Dad says, looking almost thoughtful as he does. "For her sake most of all, she wanted things that I couldn't give her so the sooner she got rid of me she'd be able to find those things elsewhere. However, some six months after our relationship ended she came to me, at home, pregnant with you."

I think he looks pained but I can't tell what that look really is.

"Your mother wasn't mentally stable but nobody knew how bad it really was at the time. She had never been admitted, even though she had been medicated for clinical depression in her teens. This was her first big breakdown."

This sounds very familiar and a horrible thought starts to grow in me, but I push it away for now and just listen. My throat is super dry so I take a sip from my juice. Dad fuels up with some more wine.

"She had a knife with her." Dad shakes his head. "How the fuck she managed to get that through security is beyond me but several people were fired because of it. She told me some things that I don't need to retell but the main part is that if she couldn't have me she didn't want my child. She had discovered her pregnancy when it was too late to legally have an abortion. Before I could realize what the hell she was about to do she lifted the knife and stabbed herself in the stomach."

I gasp involuntarily and dad glances at me quickly.

"It's a fucking miracle she missed you. I managed to get the knife out of your mother's hand and then I called an ambulance. When they were on the way I put pressure on the wound, dealing with it best I could." He sighs deeply. "I was so fucking scared I was going to lose you straight after finding out about you. But after they saw you were unharmed they managed to patch your mother up and shortly after she was admitted to a mental institution. I paid for it all, and it cost me a great deal to keep everything away from the public eye. This was just around the time that the company was starting to get some serious attention."

I feel as if though I'm about to choke. _My mother tried to kill me._

"Your mother was kept in isolation with straight jacket until the time of your birth." Dad tells me. "I visited her a few times and I was there when you were born. I was the first one to hold you and you had a quite extraordinary set of lungs. Jesus, how loudly you cried. I realized that you would never be satisfied with me, you needed something better. So I asked your grandparents to take you and they did. You know about this already. They asked me who the mother was of course, but I didn't tell them."

He looks at me very seriously.

"Your mother was a danger to you. Do you understand that?" He asks me and I can't really do anything but nod; I'm still in shock. Dad continues: "Now comes the part that you might get upset about and understandably so, but you'll need to at least try and see my part."

I'm worried now.

"Your mother is not dead like I've had you believe she is."

"What?" I breathe. I should have seen this coming but it's like getting an electric shock. But after a second I realize that somewhere inside me I already knew this since a while ago.

"She's not dead." Dad clarifies again as if he thinks that I haven't heard. "I told you that so you wouldn't ever want to look for her. She signed all her parental rights away and signed a non-disclosure-agreement too. It was to protect you."

"Then why didn't you just say so?!" I burst out, starting to feel angry. "All my life I've believed that you blamed me for my mother's death and that you didn't want me around for that!"

"I'm sorry about that." Dad says calmly, watching me warily. "Like I told you the other day, I had no idea about it. You never told me"

I stand up and slam my hand in onto the breakfast bar.

"Because you never cared enough to see when something was up!" I shout at dad, who rises too. "You really think I'd want to trust you with my deepest emotions then? And I should thank you I guess, because now you proved that I was right not to. You've lied to me my entire life!"

"I told you, it was for your own good." Dad raises his voice somewhat too. "Don't tell me that I don't care, that's just not true, Amber."

"Why did you want me to live with you now of all times?" I demand, stomping my foot like a little child. "I know it's not just because of grandma."

I have an idea and I need to get him to confirm that I'm right. He does.

"No" Dad probably figures he won't get away with lying anymore. "That's not the only reason."

I stare at him, expectant and terrified at the same time. Dad clears his throat.

"Your mother had been living quite peacefully for quite some time, she went back to school and even got married some ten years ago. However, she cheated on her husband and was about to leave him when her lover died. She became unstable and sick and moved back in with her parents, but suddenly one morning she had disappeared. I've had my people trying to track her but no success. I was worried she might come to find you. And the other night there was finally a breakthrough; they have tracked her credit card and found out that she bought a ticket for Seattle."

I feel like I've been punched hard in the stomach and then slapped ten times on each cheek. I feel a tear run down my cheek. _He didn't want me here for real._

"I understand this is a lot to take in, Amber." Dad says in his CEO voice. "And I want you to know that if you need some time, you can go stay with your grandmother and your uncle for a while; I'll send plenty of security with you to keep you safe."

I don't want to live there. With grandma maybe, but I don't want to wake up every morning from Ava pinching me. Whenever I've stayed with them I've left with bruises all over. And the way Elliott and Kate always displays how madly in love they are with their constant making out and touchy-feely just makes me sick.

"Right" I say bitterly, looking down on my feet. "Whenever you don't want to handle me yourself you just send me on my way and ignore me, just like you've always done."

"It's not that I don't want you to stay" Dad sighs. "But if you feel that you can't trust me enough to tell me important things then it might not be right for you to live with me."

"FUCK YOU!" The words fly out of me before I can stop them. I just feel so mad at my dad for wanting to just throw me aside. But I've never screamed like this to him before.He is not impressed, his eyes narrow and he grasps onto my arm, hard. There'll be a bruise to show for that too.

"I'm still your father; you do _not _talk to me that way. Understood?" He growls at me.

"You're only my fucking father when you want to be, I just have to go with your _stupid and ridiculous _whims and I hate that. I hate _YOU!" _Since I've already started on this path I might as well go all the way down. I'm angry.

Dad's grasp hardens even more and I can't help but letting out a little whimper. Dad hears it and relaxes his grip somewhat before saying:

"This is precisely why I didn't want to tell you this so soon. You obviously can't handle it like an adult."

"But I'm not an adult!" My tears are flowing freely now. "You can't just expect me to be super mature one second and then treat me like I'm a little kid the next. I'll always get it wrong, I'll never be good enough for you. Freaking Mr. Perfect."

Dad is silent for a few moments.

"I'm far from perfect, Amber" He says tightly after a little while. _Yeah, right._

I'm crying for real now. I don't have any more words. Dad stares down at me and suddenly he lets go of my arm. I feel like I'm being dropped like some disgusting piece of trash; I feel like a disgusting piece of trash. What else could I be when my own mother tried to kill me before I was even born.

"I think you need to go to your room and calm down." Dad's voice is low and clipped. "I'll be there in a while and we can continue talking about it."

"I don't want to."

"Fine" He snaps. "So we can discuss self-control and composure instead. You choose."

I should have known losing control and screaming at him wouldn't go unpunished. I quietly start to walk away. He grabs hold of my wrist to turn me around.

"Amber…" For a moment I think he looks pleading but then I realize how stupid I am for thinking that. He doesn't plea, he orders.

"Let go of me." I mumble.

Pained look in his eyes. I don't care. I don't care about anything, not even if he knows that I went after Leila Williams. Actually… He might as well know; I _want_ him to know that I'm not as stupid as he obviously thinks I am. I'm now convinced that she's my mother. She must be, there are too many things that just add up so well. I reach over to the chair where I sat and take my backpack that's hanging on the back of it. I reach into it and take out the "Leila file" as I call it; everything Phil gave me except for his contact details that are in my drawer. I dump it on the breakfast bar and walk out of the room, catching the confused look in dad's eyes before I go.

…

**Thank you as always, new and old readers and reviewers, for your response! Hearing what you think makes my day, every day. I know some of you have been a bit worried about Ana stomping in and taking over the story but not to worry; she will need to be in it for certain things to happen and some issues to stir up but the main thing I'm writing about is and will remain the relationship between Christian and Amber. Though things are not looking so sunny for them at the moment, there is a somewhat rocky road ahead! **

**Please leave a review to tell me what you think and I'm curious to hear what you think Christian's reaction to the Leila file will be! Thank you for reading. xx**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Christian**_

I watch my daughter as she disappears towards her room and curse inwardly. I shouldn't have told her these things; not now. Whatever progress we've made in our communication and relationship since my father's funeral is lost again now. Though I would have thought she'd be able to see my side; I have only been trying to protect her. It was all for her. Wasn't it? I sigh deeply, down the remainder of my wine and look at the big mass of paper she dropped on the breakfast bar, wondering what in the hell that might be. I open the file and start looking over its content. _WHAT. THE. FUCK?! _Leila. Leila, Leila, Leila; every piece of information that a little googling and internet digging could result in. How the hell did Amber get this, WHY the hell did she get this? She couldn't know, it's fucking impossible; I've made sure it's impossible, I even told her a fake name for pity's sake! Jesus Christ… My eyes are caught by one particular printed article. About the artist who uses the loss of her child as inspiration for her paintings. Fucking shit. I collect all the papers, shove them into the file and start walking with determined steps towards my daughter's bedroom. Never mind if she's calmed herself or not; she has some serious explaining to do and I'll make sure she does it _now._

"When the hell did you get all this?" I demand the second I slam open Amber's door. She is sitting on her bed, hugging her knees and I walk over when she doesn't reply, hovering over her and holding up the file. "Answer me, Amber!"

She looks up at me with wide eyes and I throw the file on the bed beside her; crossing my arms and waiting for a reply. I raise my eyebrows and stare at her, ignoring the tears on her cheeks. Eventually she opens her mouth:

"I got it a few days ago."

"A few days ago?" My voice is barely more than a whisper but I know she can hear me perfectly. "In New York?"

"No." Amber's voice on the other hand is barely audible.

"Before?"

She nods.

"When you were still grounded and had no access to a computer? How?" She looks down at her now naked feet but I grasp her chin and force her to look up at me. "Amber. Tell. Me. Now"

"A friend gave it to me."

"Here?"

Another nod. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Did I say you could have friends here while grounded?" I ask and irritation flashes across her face. _Careful, baby girl._

"You didn't say I couldn't" Her voice is louder now. "And it's not like I called him, he came on his own."

A he friend, who the fuck could that be? I know who all her friends are and none of them are male. She goes to an all girls private school.

"What friend?" I keep my eyes fixed on hers and she blinks.

"A new friend." She says, glaring right back at me.

"Who?"

The question hangs in the air. Fine, I can wait. _But you're going to fucking tell me._ Her glare turns defiant.

"His name is Phil; I met him a week and a half ago, on the day of grandpa's funeral."

One of the fucking lowlifes I found her drinking with. She's out on thin ice now, my girl. I let go of her chin and run both my hands through my hair, feeling fucking tired all of a sudden.

"He's been here? In the apartment?"

"Yes, he came round a couple of days after we met. I didn't invite him."

Looks like the building needs to fire some security. I'll deal with that later, for now there are more important things I need to know:

"And he just happened to bring you a file filled with information on Leila Williams?"

"No, I asked him to research her and he brought me that stuff a few days later." The look on Amber's face is sulky and her eyes are shooting sparks like I imaging mine are as I scowl at her.

"So he's been here twice?"

"Yes."

"Why did you ask him to research Leila Williams?"

"Why would that be a problem?"

"Amber!" I snap and then lean closer to her and say very coldly: "You do not want to test me right now."

She looks at me for a moment and then starts talking:

"I was curious about her. I found a file in your office with some info on her in it and I connected her to that." She points to the painting I've had hung over her bed. Leila's painting. "It's her initials. I wanted to know why you had a file on her and why you had three of her paintings in the apartment. Now I know."

"You went snooping around in my office." I state, my voice arctic. "How dare you do that, Amber?"

"It was when I called grandma from your phone in there." Amber says without a hint of embarrassment or shame. "I wasn't snooping; I just happened to see it and got curious."

"That's why you went to that fucking east coast artist gallery in New York?" I know already but I want her to confirm it, which she does with a nod.

"You were trying to find her?" My voice is rising in volume. Jesus fuck!

"Yes!" Amber is shouting too now, scrambling up into standing position beside her bed. "Why shouldn't I? You never told me who she was so _how the fuck _was I supposed to know that she was some crazy lunatic _whore _that you had for a while and who tried to abort me with a knife!"

I have to fight back the urge to slap my daughter across the face. Instead I take a step closer and glare down at her until she starts squirming somewhat, knowing probably that she's gone too far.

"You need to learn how to control yourself." I tell her calmly. I have to end this fucking discussion now. "You got what you wanted Amber, I hope you're happy. You know who your mother is. You know that she's a mentally ill person who wanted to get rid of you so badly that she was willing to stab herself in order to end your existence. You know that she's lived your entire existence not making a single attempt at trying to contact you or know anything about you."

I can see that she is hurt by my words but I go on. She needs to hear it, so she won't try to go after Leila. I don't want to think about how the fuck that might end.

"I told you your mother was someone else and that she was dead in order to protect you and because I honestly thought thinking her dead would be better than knowing those things." I lift her chin again and she tries to shake my hand off but without success. I grasp her shoulder so she won't turn away and look her in the eye. "You just had to go after the forbidden fruit. I have to say I'm impressed by your persistence. However, there are a number of things in your behavior that I'm not as impressed by. Your looking through my office files and going behind my back instead of asking me upfront what you wanted to know. I don't want to think about what the fuck could have happened if you'd actually found Leila. And then socializing with those idiots that gave a fifteen-year-old alcohol, while knowing that I would disapprove. I'll have a discussion with Mrs. Jones about this too; she's not to let any friends of yours in here unless I've met them first."

Amber is starting to look very uncomfortable and I think she's fucking right to be. I go on:

"Then of course we have the way you've spoken to me tonight. It may be that you're not happy about the way I've handled things but I'm still your father and I demand your respect. I do not need your approval and like I've said several times; whatever I've said or done has been for your own good."

Tears are streaming down Amber's face as I let go of her and I feel an irritating twinge of guilt, which I immediately push away.

"Consider yourself grounded again." I tell her and while she looks crushed at the idea she doesn't appear surprised. "Indefinitely this time. Until you start school you're not to leave your room and once school starts you'll have Sawyer with you at all times and he'll be taking you back here every afternoon. I'm assuming you're not ready to apologize for how you've acted just yet but let me know when you are."

"I won't apologize for anything I've said today because I'm not fucking sorry." Amber mutters. "Wait all you want, ground me for life if you have to. Nothing matters anymore anyway."

With that she sits back on her bed and turns away from me. I look at her for a moment and then I turn on my heal and walk out, slamming her door behind me. Outside her room, I bury my head in my hands for a moment and groan. _Fuck. _Then I hear Amber crying inside the room, loud heartbreaking sobs. I stand for another moment, and then I go towards my own room. I just can't bring myself to go back in there. And she wouldn't want me there anyway.

…

I lie in bed, several hours later, completely unable to sleep. I decide to just give the fuck up and with a sigh I throw my legs over the edge of the bed and make my way to my drawer. I take out a white t-shirt and pull it over my head as I'm only wearing pajama bottoms. I think I'm going out to play piano but instead I find myself walking in the other direction; towards my daughter's room. I've been doing that sometimes since she was little. When I've been unable to sleep I would stand or sit by her bed, watching her as she slept. It always calmed me down. I open her door quietly, without knocking and my breath hitches at the sight before me. Amber is curled up on her bed, fully dressed and lying on top of the coverlet, facing the door. The lights are still on and her face is red and swollen and looks wet still; she's cried herself to sleep. _Shit. _I tiptoe closer to the bed and crouch down beside it, looking at my daughter's beautiful face. Jesus, she looks so much like me. Like my birth mother. I reach out and touch her cheek, still wet and hot. She must have been crying for hours before passing out from pure exhaustion. Every ounce of anger I felt towards her before flashes away in an instant and I just feel sorry for her. Not that I approve of what she's been up to or how she spoke to me but I might have overreacted a bit. I don't know what it is about Amber, how the hell she makes me so fucking angry. I know my temper is short at best, but Amber makes me so damn furious that I don't even know how to describe it. However, it's only lately when she's driven me so completely off the edge, for so many years she would only ever go as far as to annoy me but never enough for me to get downright mad. At least when I've been with her, I've heard from my parents about some shit she's been up to but not been there myself to discipline her. I have been known to shout at my daughter over the phone but rarely when we've actually been in the same room. She's been pretty careful not to push me too far I think. Until very recently. While I'm sure she doesn't particularly _want_ to anger me she sure seems less worried about doing so. Or she wouldn't have shouted "fuck you" at my face. Christ, she even said she hated me. I hope to fucking God that's just teenage drama talking. The other night when she told me she loved me I was so ridiculously happy, I had unknowingly longed for her to say those words to me as easily as she always has to her grandparents. It was nice being able to tell her the same, I wish I could manage to do so more often but I'm not comfortable with expressing that kind of emotions. In words or otherwise. Before Amber came along I was pretty fucking sure I was completely unable to love at all but it seemed I could at least manage parental love. I love my daughter so much; I worry about her and I want her safe. That's why I lied to her. Sure, it was beneficial for me as well, what with the public eye and the risk of the nature of my relationship with Leila getting out there. But it was mostly for Amber, I honestly thought she'd be better of knowing as little as possible about her mother and thinking her dead. Just as I honestly thought she'd be better off living with my parents rather than with me. But lately I just don't know anymore, about any decision I've made in my lifetime. I let out another deep sigh and rise from my crouching position. I lean over and carefully lift Amber's head somewhat, shoving a pillow under it. Rather than pulling the cover out from under her with the risk of her waking up, I walk over to her cupboard and get a blanket which I drape over her body. She's still too thin, I need to put more pressure on Gail to make Amber eat properly. One more sigh and I'm out of the room, switching off the lights as I go. Making a mental note to book myself an emergency appointment with doctor Flynn in the morning.

…

**THANK YOU so much for the fantastic response for the last chapter, I really loved your reviews! As always I ask you to let me know what you think, leaving a little note on your way out doesn't take much time and it's really so appreciated. This chapter was pretty sad I think but I hope you weren't bored by it at least. Let me know! Thank you again x**


	19. Chapter 19

_**Amber**_

The first day of school after the break comes around and I haven't left my room once. It's been like life has been drained out of me, I've barely been able to get out of bed and shower. And even after I've gotten dressed I've just been lying on my bed, sitting in my chairs and occasionally gone to the bathroom. I haven't been eating very much of the things Mrs. Jones comes in with three times a day but weirdly enough dad hasn't stormed in once to yell at me or even force-feed me. He probably hates me now and doesn't care anymore. I don't know. I try to tell myself that I don't care either, but I obviously do. It's not like I haven't always known that my own dad doesn't want me but now that I know that my mother never wanted me either it feels a lot worse. When I was little I used to make up stories about how my mother's spirit flew around and looked after me. It used to make me feel really secure and stuff during the day but the thought of spirits and ghosts always scared me at night. It was one of the reasons I had trouble sleeping and going back to sleep after a nightmare. The other reasons I don't really know, I'm probably just weird.

…

I'm so tired; I realize when I see myself in the bathroom mirror as I'm rinsing my toothbrush. I look like a ghost or someone who escaped from a mental institution. I cringe at the thought, reminded of Leila Williams. I have taken down the painting from over my bed and shoved it into the back of my closet. I couldn't stand to look at it anymore; I kept wondering if it was one of those pictures that I had been "inspiration" for. Such fucking bullshit; it was probably just something she said because it sounded good in an interview. I sigh as I put my toothbrush back; fix my too big uniform best I can and walk out of my bedroom. I'm hoping I won't run into dad but he's standing in the hallway with Taylor and Sawyer, waiting for me. It's the first time I see him since the night we got back from New York.

"Good morning, Amber." He says in a hushed voice. "I wanted to wish you a good first day back at school, Sawyer will be taking you there and back. I will probably not see you tonight though as I have to meet with Miss Steele to discuss Kate and Elliott's party. Mrs. Jones will take care of you."

_As if anyone else would._ I just nod as we step into the elevator, it's not like I could do anything to affect his decision. Dad breathes in, as if he's about to say something, but remains quiet. I can feel his eyes on me and I notice from the corner of my own eye how Sawyer and Taylor are exchanging uncomfortable looks.

"Well, goodbye Amber." Dad says as the elevator ride is finally over and he and Taylor are walking towards the R8.

"Bye." I mumble and go with Sawyer to the SUV. I sit in the back and lean my head against the cool car window. Not looking forward to the day, or the rest of my pathetic life, one bit.

…

The school week is going super slow in one way but the days are still a blur when I think back on them while on the way to school on Friday morning. Nothing much has happened really but I've been told off in class several times for "day dreaming". My violin teacher is frustrated with me for slacking; but I just haven't found it in me to practice. I just count the minutes until I can go home and lock myself in my room. Dad has been asking if I want to come to eat dinner with him but I've just said no until he's sighed and left and sent Mrs. Jones back with a tray. I don't have very many friends at school so no one is surprised that I keep to myself a lot during school hours. And having Sawyer with me doesn't really make a difference; lots of the girls at school have bodyguards from time to time and some even have them all year around. Sawyer is by no means the only one standing guard outside my classroom. People haven't been talking much to me but I've hear that a few of the other girls have been saying stuff about dad buying the principal's family company or whatever, and that Mr. Fitzgerald is apparently pretty pissed. The closest thing to a friend that I have in school, Audrey Jensen, told me in the bathroom when we were washing our hands that I'd do well trying not to get in trouble for a while until the whole thing blows over. As if I had the energy to get myself into trouble.

"Hey, Grey!" Rebecca Darcy shouts after me when I'm on my way to English. It's just after another lunch break spent staring at my turkey sandwich and Sawyer is, as instructed, about ten meters behind me. I turn to Rebecca. She's always considered me a thorn in her side for some reason. I don't really know why; I don't even know much about her. She's on a scholarship I know and she's not really friends with anyone and me in particular. Once when I was younger I complained about her being mean at home and grandpa told me that her parents might encourage her to stay on her guard towards the "rich kids". I didn't understand why then and I don't know. It's not like it's my fault that my dad has money and I don't think I've ever taken advantage of it like I see many of the other girls at the school do. But about Rebecca I kind of accepted that I don't like her and she doesn't like me and that generally means that we just don't talk to each other, which is why I'm pretty surprised that she comes running up to me in the corridor. I blink at her, wondering only vaguely interested what the hell she wants. She glares up at me; I'm about two inches taller than she is.

"Hasn't your daddy got enough money to buy you things of your own? Do you really have to steal from other people?"

"What?" I frown, confused. _What have I stolen?_

"That bag is not yours." She points to the backpack I'm holding. It looks like mine. Doesn't it? I look closer. Oh. It's brown leather, like my own backpack, but it's lighter brown and the bag is actually a different brand and model. I hold it up at her.

"Sorry." I say. "I thought it was mine."

"I bet you did." She snaps and snatches the bag from me. "You probably think you own the world."

"No, I don't" I snort. I know it's not worth to provoke her further but it's annoying that she would even think that.

"Like hell you don't" She's smirking now. "You are probably just like your father, just take whatever comes in your way that you want and don't care at all about how it might affect other people."

I don't know if I'm mad about the way she talks about dad or that she says I'm like that but something just snaps inside me when I hear her words. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I have punched her right on her jaw. Years of practice has made me able to throw a very good punch even in my sleep, or when I'm a zombie like now. It cracks; I probably broke it and Rebecca wails loudly which makes every conversation in the corridor stop.

"Miss Grey!" I hear from two directions. One is Sawyer's, he's lounging towards me either to protect me from Rebecca punching back or to keep me away from her. Or both. The other voice belongs to someone standing in the other end of the hall, someone who's sounding extremely pissed. I turn my head slightly and almost choke when I see him. Mr. Fitzgerald. The school principal. _Shit._

…

**Your response for the last chapter was so fantastic, your supportive and encouraging reviews nearly made me cry when I read through them! Thank you so very much. I'm sorry this chapter is a bit short, I'll make up for it by either updating more often or making the next chapter extra long. Please let me know what you think, and I'd love to hear your ideas on what might happen next! Thanks again. x**


	20. Chapter 20

_**Christian**_

Inhuman work load is a welcome distraction from the situation at home. Since the fight I had with Amber on Thursday evening I've been diving into all kinds of shit, half of which I shouldn't have to deal with myself. I've met with little Miss Steele twice, once to have lunch and plan the idiotic fucking bachelor/bachelorette party and once to show her my dark side. I was so fucking sure she'd run for the hills when I showed her the apartment I've acquired solely for the purpose of sexual play. She signed the NDA before I showed her, without even reading it. That woman mesmerizes me and it's quite unnerving. I don't feel this way, not about anyone. She turns me into a fucking teenager again. Not to mention that I find myself thinking about her when I should be concerned about my daughter. My head in the few moments where I don't have anything requiring my immediate attention is a mess of frustration over not knowing whether Anastasia will say yes to becoming my sub and a horrible feeling that my relationship with my daughter might be irreparable. Amber has refused to come out of her room, even to eat. A few of her teachers have called me as well to let me know that she hasn't been handing in work and that her head has been elsewhere in class. I haven't had it in me to bring it up with my daughter, and she won't talk to me. I will have to take her to see Flynn as soon as he gets back from his fucking Bermuda trip; I had completely forgotten about that. I want to see him on my own account too, a double appointment I think. Plenty of shit to discuss, Amber as well as Anastasia. Anastasia… God, I hope she'll say yes. I've sent her a little gift today, something to think of while she considers. I just hope she won't see it as a bribe, I don't do that shit. I'm so entranced by everything about her, from her smart mouth to her intelligence, to her ability to surprise me constantly. To her eyes to her lips. Yes. That fucking lip biting gets me every time. And she defies me. A lot. _What I would like to do about that._ I'll have to wait until our next lunch meeting on Monday to find out whether I'll be able to. My Blackberry rings suddenly and I snap out of my reverie.

"Grey."

"Mr. Grey, Sawyer here."

"Sawyer." I immediately feel a pinch of worry. "Is my daughter all right?"

"She got into a fight and broke another girl's jaw." Sawyer sounds somewhat embarrassed. _He'd fucking better be, he should have been looking out for her._

"She what?" I growl into the phone, feeling frustration rise in me.

"She was provoked." Sawyer says immediately. "And she looked shocked over what she'd done, the thing I wanted to inform you off is that the principal happened to see what happened and brought her to his office. And the other girl told a load of bullshit about how Miss Grey had started the whole thing by stealing from her. A few girls and myself tried to tell him otherwise but Fitzgerald wouldn't hear it. I think Miss Grey might be in serious trouble and you ought to know."

"All right Luke, thanks for telling me." I've already begun to shrug into my jacket. "I'll be there as soon as I can." I hang up and hurry out of the office, muttering to Andrea that I'll be gone the rest of the day.

Shit. _Shit shit shit. _Amber's principal will not miss out on an opportunity to go hard on my daughter; I recently put his father out of business, thus ruining his inheritance. Fucking idiot, the school is supposed to notify me as soon as shit like this happens. I run out of the elevator and into the garage, not bothering to call for Taylor. I don't have a second to lose.

…

_**Amber**_

My worst nightmare is about to come true. All freaking years of worrying this could happen one day, all freaking years of being a model pupil and now I've just thrown it all away in a stupid punch. I barely hear Mr. Fitzgerald's speech about morals and school principle; I know the rules well enough to be aware that I'm accused of the two worst offences there is. Stealing and fighting. All during one two-minute break. Sawyer was sweet trying to stand up for me; and like three other girls that I've barely even spoken two surprisingly tried to come to the rescue as well. But it was all for nothing since Fitzgerald had already made up his mind as soon as he saw me punch Rebecca. That's why I just want the punishment over with, I don't have the energy to try and plead my case. He won't believe me no matter what I say, and especially not if he's got some issue with dad or whatever. I don't really blame him for believing what Rebecca said about me stealing her back either; I can guess how it must have looked. And even if he'd heard what she said he would have lectured me about self-control and talking through the problem instead of turning to violence. Hypocritical since I'm pretty sure that he will be hitting me in a minute or so. I'm right:

"Well Miss Grey, since you don't seem to have anything to say for yourself I don't see any reason for not getting on with it." Mr. Fitzgerald says and I glance up at him from where my eyes are set on my feet. He's smiling. "As you well know you have committed two very serious offences today; you've stolen from and started a fight with another student. We believe here that the student has a right to choose their own path in all situations which is why I will give you a choice. Either of these offences will result in three days suspension or a paddling."

I get a choice? This is new to me; I've never been in this situation before.

"Might I add" Mr. Fitzgerald says quickly. "That since you've made yourself guilty of both stealing and fighting; any punishment will be double. Meaning you'll be suspended for six days or get twice the amount of swats."

I feel myself tremble. I don't want this, I don't want this, I don't want this. It's like choosing between lepers and polio. A stupid fucking tear runs down my cheek and I glance over at the paddle where it's hanging on the wall. Huge, dark shiny wood, with duct tape around the handle and several holes drilled in it. I was so mistaken; the one dad had was smaller without holes and not like this at all. Dad… He'll kill me when he finds out about my losing it and punching someone; he'll be so mad. The most controlled control-freak of all. _How did I get myself into this? _

"Miss Grey, I'm waiting" Mr. Fitzgerald snaps and I'm flinching. "You may have another minute to make up your mind and then I'll decide for you."

"I'll… I'll…" I know what I need to choose but I just can't bring myself to say it. I can't get suspended for six days; all the school work I'd miss out on… And it would show in all the records and affect my college applications. And dad would most definitely find out; I can't hide that I'm suspended. But then again; he'll find out either way. Rebecca's parents will want to press charges.

"Let me propose a deal." Mr. Fitzgerald suddenly says with another creepy smile. "I'm sure you don't want your father to find out about this. If I punish you here and now, I can assure you that he won't. I know Miss Darcy's family; I can persuade them to not press charges against you for breaking their daughter's jaw."

"Really?" A stupid flare of hope lights in me but then I'm suspicious again. "With all due respect Mr. Fitzgerald, why would you do that?"

"I believe everyone has a right to a second chance." He says with a smile that looks sarcastic and turns dark within seconds.

_He just wants to beat the shit out of me to get back at dad. _The thought hits me hard. There's just know getting out of this, I just have to choose who I'd rather be hit by. I know dad promised he wouldn't spank me but if he could lie about my mother for fifteen years I'm sure he could break a promise too. I don't know what to think anymore. But I'd rather be punished by the vengeful lunatic than make dad even sicker of me than he already is. I don't care if Fitzgerald hates me but I don't want my dad to.

"Ok." I breathe and blink hard to keep the freaking tears from coming back. Mr. Fitzgerald looks like a child on Christmas.

"The paddling?" He asks and I nod. "Wise choice, Miss Grey. Mature."

I refrain from snorting. Then Mr. Fitzgerald takes the paddle of the wall and every ounce of self-esteem that I might have had disappears in an instant. Tears are already streaming down my face when Fitzgerald tells me to bend over the desk and place my palms and elbows flat on the surface. I'm so focused on remembering to breathe that I don't hear Fitzgerald's voice until he's been saying my name several times. I look up.

"I just told you to count, Miss Grey." He says with a sadistic glint in his pale blue eyes. "Loudly and clearly. Understood?"

"Yes sir." I mumble and look back down at my hands. I want to clench my fists but I don't dare to. Just like I don't dare to ask how many times he will hit me.

The first blow is so hard that it makes me gasp for air as new tears form in my eyes and pools over.

"One" I remember to grunt out.

It stings so much and my bottom is already throbbing. I try to steel myself for the second blow but it doesn't come. Then suddenly the paddle slams onto my upper thighs and I let out a whimper, like a stupid dog.

"Two." My voice is almost a sob. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry!_

My panties and the skirt of my school uniform offer little to no protection. This sucks, two blows and I already want to throw myself out the window. Systematically, between 15 to 30 seconds apart, more strikes come and each one makes me cry out before I can manage to count out loud. He varies between only two places; the bottom of my behind and the top of my thighs. It's like he's determined to make me unable to sit. Very soon I'm exhausted from pain, not being able to breathe and trying to keep from crying like a baby. And biting my lip in order to do so. When Fitzgerald reaches sixteen, I can't get a proper word out, merely a stutter. How long is this going to go on for? A crashing hard blow comes instantly.

"Neither loud nor clear enough, Miss Grey." Fitzgerald's voice is smug. _He's enjoying this. Freaking sadist. _

"That one doesn't count, once again please: sixteen" He tells me.

"Sixteen" I shout and it's all I have to get it out. Another strike follows and I scream because it's so hard. I'm starting to feel faint.

Before I can say, or rather fail to say, seventeen the door slams open and I immediately stand up, not caring if Fitzgerald will kill me for it. I don't need another person seeing my bottom getting beaten. I gasp again when I see who it is. Dad. Followed by Mr. Fitzgerald's secretary Ms. Wilks. His eyes fly to me and if my face wasn't already red as a tomato I would be blushing. Dad looks furious. _He's going to kill me. _I bite my lip again and taste blood.

"I'm sorry sir" Ms. Wilks says to Mr. Fitzgerald. "I tried to explain to him that you were busy."

"Are you all right?" Dad asks me in a tight voice, ignoring her.

_No. _I nod, trembling. Dad is silent for a moment before he says:

"Sawyer's right outside in the corridor. Go with him and wait for me by the car."

I'm not going back to class? I must look as confused as I feel because dad adds:

"It's ok Amber, just go."

I start walking out of the office, stiffly and slowly because it hurts so much to walk. I feel so embarrassed knowing all three are staring at me.

"For god's sake, will you fucking help her?" Dad snaps at Ms. Wilks and she immediately jumps and comes rushing to my side, placing an arm around me and guiding me outside. The door closes behind us and she leads me throw her own office out to where Sawyer is waiting. He's holding my backpack, the one that's mine for real.

"Miss Grey" he looks perplexed for a second and then he takes over from Ms. Wilks and puts his arm around me. "Let's go, your father's car is right outside."

I'm so thankful everyone else is in class. The tears are trickling down my face now and I just don't have the energy to stop them. _This is it. _I'm done for.

…

**Oh my god, you people ROCK! Thank you SO much for the reviews of the last chapter! I hope you won't disappear after this one, I don't know if it was good or very realistic but it will open up for a lot of the conflicts that are yet to come… Do let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thank you for reading and supporting this story. Xxx**


	21. Chapter 21

_**Christian**_

I sent Amber out because I feel she's seen me lose my fucking mind a few too many times lately. I give the fucking son of a bitch of a school principal my cold death stare. _Let's make this fucker squirm. _He obliges, and squirms.

"Would you care to explain to me what the fuck you've just done to my daughter?" I ask him and my voice could freeze fire.

"I punished her, as is my duty as principal of this school. Your daughter" He says it with distaste and my fists clench. "Punched another student in the face, breaking her jaw. Before that she had stolen that very same student's bag."

_Motherfucker._

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow. "My daughter's bodyguard, along with several other students who witnessed it, says that Amber had merely taken a bag that wasn't hers by mistake and that she was provoked."

The son of a bitch snorts. _How fucking dare he?!_ I go on:

"And either way, one only needs to take a look at my daughter to see that the kid needs help, not punishment. She's been through hell in the past few weeks and any idiot would be able to see that she's neither sleeping nor eating right."

I feel a twinge of guilt, because that's exactly what I have done, grounding her again just because she lost control over her mouth while upset. And I haven't been taking care of her properly. It's all my fucking fault, it's probably even my brawler gene that made her lose control and lash out at that other girl. I repress those thoughts for now and turn my attention back at the idiot Fitzgerald who's speaking up:

"We use corporal punishment as a method of discipline here, Mr. Grey." He says my name with disgust too. "You've signed all our contracts every year when you've paid your daughter's tuition."

"In those contracts it also says that parents are to be notified before, not during or after, such punishment is administered." I snap. "I wasn't notified at all; my employee called me up and told me what the hell was going on." I move closer to him and look down at his ugly face; I'm at least five inches taller. "Why is that?" I ask in a dangerously low voice.

"You're a busy man Mr. Grey." He mutters. "We didn't want to disturb you with such petty things."

I laugh bitterly.

"My daughter being abused by the people I trust her with every day is hardly something I consider 'petty'" I say. "And I think it's just a tad strange that your being so quick to beat my daughter coincides with my closing down your father's corrupt business and stripping you of all your laundered money?"

He says nothing to this and I glare into his sleepy eyes, saying in a voice that's hardly more than a low growl:

"You'll go down for this. I will have you charged with assault and abuse and I'll make sure you go to prison for as long as possible. Then you can think back of how much fun you had hurting an innocent girl because you had an issue with her father."

_Fucking sadist. _As I think it, I have a horrible feeling that I also repress for now to be dealt with later. I have more important stuff to take care of. Amber. Because I want the fucker Fitzgerald to have as little against me as possible, I neither punch his teeth in or kick his balls. I just give him one final look of disgust and leave. I glare icily at the useless fucking secretary on my way out, hissing something about how I'll have her prosecuted as well. She knew what the hell was going on in there; she should have interfered. From the state Amber was in, hardly being able to fucking walk, I understood without even having to raise the question that she had gotten far more than the five swats that are listed as the upper limit for any offence in the mile long list of school policy and rules. But of course it was difficult for her to say anything to protest. Which is also a reason for why it shouldn't be a problem to have Fitzgerald convicted, he took advantage of having the upper hand both physically and hierarchically. I nod at my lawyers as I walk through the corridor; I rang them from the car and they've already arrived to collect testimonies and find witnesses to what happened in the hallway between Amber and that girl. Good. I rush through the hall, eager to get the fuck out of here and more importantly; to get my daughter out of here. I get out and see my little girl standing by the car with Sawyer. I walk down the steps and as I come closer I almost feel the urge to throw up. I'm sickened by myself for so many fucking things right now and the most prominent is the knowledge of how neglectful I've been. How is it possible that I, after all the shit I went through before the Greys adopted me, could have let my child suffer like this? Knowing though that I can't do anything about that now I do the thing I have to do. I stand close to Amber and lift her downturned face up towards me. It's red and there are dark shadows under her eyes. Her bottom lip is bleeding, she must have been biting it. But of all that it's seeing her eyes that nearly makes me choke; there is no life in them. It's like she's completely drained. Then, suddenly, before I can figure out what the hell I can say to her, tears spill over and her shoulders begin to shake.

"Oh baby." I mumble and pull her to me. She stands stiff and still for a moment and then her arms go around my waist as she cries hard into my chest. I do what I can, which is mostly to just fucking stand there. I nod at Sawyer to take the driver's seat; he can come back later with Taylor for the other car. I scoop Amber up in my arms and get her into the car. I try to be careful but she winces when I sit her down. I quickly get in beside her and put my arm around her shoulder.

"Home?" I ask Amber softly and she nods. I instruct Sawyer and he drives off straight away. I keep holding my daughter until we reach Escala and she doesn't pull away but she doesn't say anything either.

"Thank you Sawyer. I won't be needing you right now, call Taylor to help you collect the other car." I say as he holds up the car door on my side. I keep an arm around Amber's shoulder and help her out and towards the elevator. I curse inwardly at the sight of how stiffly she's walking. _I'll have that monster's head on a fucking plate._ In the elevator up to the apartment, Amber leans her head against my shoulder and almost looks as if she's drowsed off until her head shoots up as the doors slide open. She wipes her face with the back of her hand and I get her into the living area, trying to collect some cushions as discretely as I can for her to sit down on. I squeeze her shoulder before going into the kitchen area to fetch her some Advil.

"Mr. Grey." Gail is there, a worried look on her face. Sawyer must have called her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not for the rest of the day, thank you." I tell her as I rummage through the cupboards. _Why can't I fucking find the Advil, have I forgotten where the hell we keep it?!_

"Here you go, sir." Gail senses what I'm looking for and opens the right drawer.

"Thank you." I mutter to her. "You go ahead and take a long weekend; I need to spend some time alone with my daughter."

"Very well, sir." She glances into the living area before forcing a smile and leaving. I take a small bottle of water and the Advil and go back to Amber, sitting down next to her and handing her the meds and the water. Without me having to tell her she takes to tablets and swallows them with some water. Once she's done she looks up at me with her red, tearstained face full of anxiety.

"Aren't you mad at me?" She asks in a twitchy, trembling voice.

"Not in the slightest." I tell her immediately, taking the water bottle from her and putting it on the mahogany coffee table.

"But…" New tears form in her eyes. "I broke someone's jaw."

"I know." I say seriously. "It's ok."

"But they'll press charges!" Amber wails and now the tears are exploding out of her eyes as her breathing gets harsher and more irregular.

"It doesn't matter; I don't care." I try to assure her but she's not hearing me.

"It'll be so expensive.. an-and- and it will show… in records.. I don't know what – what to do-do. I don't know what to do…" She sobs hard and my heart, whatever low-price kind it is that I have, simply breaks for her.

"Amber." I look her in the eye and make another attempt at being reassuring as I stroke her hair. "You need to listen to me. First of all; you don't have to know what to do because _you _will not need to do anything. I will take care of it; I'm your father and you're far from alone in this."_ Some fucking father you've been to her, Grey "_I'm so sorry for letting you deal with so much shit on your own this past week. I just… I should have been there for you."

She snivels and I pull her to me again.

"I don't hate you." She sobs, her voice muffled because her face is buried in my chest.

"I'm glad." I kiss her head.

"I'm sorry"

"Hush." I mumble.

I pathetically pat her back and eventually she calms down somewhat.

"We have a lot of things we need to talk about soon." I tell her. "Unpleasant things. If you feel up to it we can talk now, but I was going to suggest that we wait until tonight or tomorrow morning. That ok with you?"

Amber nods as she pulls away from me and wipes her tears. I kiss her forehead and rise from the sofa.

"I'll make fix you something to eat, do you want to take a shower and change in the meantime?"

Another nod. I take her hand and pull her up. I walk with her towards our bedrooms but instead of walking past mine to hers I lead her into mine and onto my bathroom.

"Towels are on the rack, use whatever you want on the shelf in the shower." I say as I search my cabinet. "I'll go get some clothes from your room and put them on my bed for you to change into. Ok?"

"Ok"

I put a jar on the counter between the sinks.

"Here's some Arnica cream." I tell Amber, clearing my throat. "It's very soothing for the skin."

"Thanks" Amber mumbles and her face flushes scarlet.

"Of course." I walk out of the bathroom to give her privacy. As I'm about to close the door I say:

"Take all the time you need but if you take too long I'll come back to check on you."

She doesn't smile. I close the door and with a sigh I hurry off to Amber's room, getting a pair of pajamas, new underwear and a cardigan. I grab a pair of knitted socks from her drawer as well. Back in my bedroom I'm satisfied to hear the water running and I put the clothes on the bed as I said I would. I go to the kitchen, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do. Not just about the damn cooking.

…

_**Amber**_

The shower feels so good, because of the hot water splashing over me and the fact that no one can tell on you if you cry in the shower. Dad has a lot of different kinds of body wash and shampoo for a guy. Not that I'd know anything about what amount of shower cream is normal for a dude to keep in his shower. I find a series of body wash, shampoo and conditioner that are supposed to spell like eucalyptus. I avoid looking in the mirrors that I can see through the glass shower door on the other side of the wall. I don't want to see what my bottom looks like, from how it feels I imagine it has to be pretty messed up. But I don't know, maybe this is what it feels like. _So freaking embarrassing. _I don't remember what my last spanking felt like but for some reason I find it super hard to believe that dad would have ever hurt me like this, even if he had actually hit me with the Damn Thing those couple of weeks ago. Then again, the spanking I got from dad when I was line dancing on the balcony made me scared to come here for months. I step out of the shower and twirl one towel around my hair and one around my body. They're soft and warm, having hung on the heated rack. I dry my face first, rub a smaller towel until it's glowing. I almost feel clean once I've done it with my entire body (except my bottom obviously). I open the jar of Arnica cream, it looks and smells super expensive. I blush to myself as I rub some in and wince at how much it stings to touch but dad was right; it is soothing. I use almost half the jar, hoping he won't mind. I step out into dad's bedroom and see that he's gotten PJs for me, my favorite ones. It's really soft light green cotton shorts with brown polka dots and a matching top. I put on the panties, pajamas and shrug into the brown knitted cardigan he's left. I pull on the multicolored knitted socks too and go back into the bathroom to hang the towels. I realize I have to brush my stupid hair, I haven't done that since last week. It's like one big tangle now. I take dad's comb and start working. Within minutes I'm freaking crying again, I could fill like fifty buckets with all the damn tears I've cried since the day I moved in here. I have apparently taken "too long" too because dad is banging his fists on the door, making me jump.

"I'm done soon" I say, trying to hide the fact that I'm crying.

"Are you crying?" Dad asks immediately from the other side of the door. _Fail. _"Can I come in?"

"Yeah." I snivel and in storms dad.

"What's the matter?" He looks straight at my face.

"My stupid fucking hair." I sob.

Dad looks relieved. He comes over to me and takes the comb from my hands. He starts untangling my stupid fucking hair very carefully, and tears start running slower and slower until they finally stop. It's not hurting so bad when dad does it, I had no idea he could be so patient.

"There." He mutters when it's all done. "Do you want a braid?"

"You know how to make braids?" I ask with a frown.

"It so happens I do." Dad smirks but it's not a very joyful smirk.

"Ok." I mumble. "Thanks"

"Give me that hair tie, please."

I give him the hair tie I was wearing earlier; I put it around my wrist when I washed my hair. Dad braids my hair really quickly and I look in the mirror, it actually looks good. I never learned how to make braids right, I suck at them. So bad that five-year olds feel the need to slap me in the face because I mess up their hair so bad.

"All done." Dad says. "Come on, let's go eat."

He puts an arm around me and walks me not to the kitchen but into the TV room. I nearly start crying when I see that practically every cushion in the entire apartment is on the sofa, with blankets and stuff. It looks so cozy and I just want to bury myself in them. But I'm hungry, like really hungry for the first time in over a week. The coffee table is set for two with bowls and forks and there's a big bowl in the middle of the table. Macaroni and cheese. Exactly what I need.

"I got you some pineapple juice, is that all right?" Dad asks as he moves some blankets so I can sit down.

"Yeah, thanks" I tell him quietly and climb up on the couch. As I do, the hem of my shorts move up slightly and I hear dad hiss.

"What?" I ask, alarmed.

"How hard did that fucker hit you?" Dad asks me, sounding completely furious.

"Um… Hard?" I feel worried.

"Your thighs are…" Dad shakes his head. "It looks pretty bad, baby."

"Oh." I don't know what to say to that. "Well… it feels pretty bad."

"I can only imagine." Dad mutters and sits down next to me with a sigh, folding a blanket around me and handing me the remote. "Pick a movie, Amber. We'll talk about everything when you've got some food in you."

I'm so tired. I scroll for a while and find "Howl's Moving Castle". Perfect. I want a happy ending. Dad fills our bowls with mac n' cheese and he still has a frown on his face. I didn't quite believe him when he said he wasn't mad, I kind of worry about the conversation we're going to have. He'll probably want to know why I hit Rebecca and I won't know how to explain it. Then we'll see about "not in the slightest". I eat two huge bowls of macaroni, I'm so hungry. Dad is glancing at me all the time, looking surprised but like really pleased. He's so weird about food. I put down my bowl and dad smiles a little at me.

"Good?" He asks.

I want to answer something like "obviously" but I don't have the energy so I just nod. Dad takes my hand and squeezes it before getting back to his own food. I get back to the movie, trying my best to forget about everything else for a moment and believe life can be a fairytale. I kind of succeed. Well, I fall asleep.

…

_**Christian**_

Amber is still sleeping when the movie is over. To be honest, I didn't really get it. But I wasn't focused, when I wasn't looking every five seconds to see if Amber was still breathing (but then again, why the fuck wouldn't she be?) I'm lost in my own mind. I need to see fucking Flynn as soon as I've dealt with all the immediate legal shit. Looking at the fucker Fitzgerald and knowing what he had just done to my daughter, I saw the enjoyment in his eyes. Of course, I saw it disappear too when he finally got it into his thick skull that he'd burn for this. But I saw it. And I despised him for it. Thought to myself that this asshole is crawling with the lowest creatures there are. And then it fucking dawned on me that I'm no better. I'm exactly the same. Sure, I'd never do anything to anyone who didn't give their consent but I truly fucking enjoy beating innocent-looking brown-haired girls until they scream, it brings me pleasure. _Fucking sadist._ It sickens me to know that I want to abuse and humiliate Anastasia Steele the same way he did with Amber, and I fucking get off on the idea. Which is why I have to end it once and for all with Anastasia, this flirt or whatever it is can't go on. I can't have a relationship with her, not the kind of relationship I proposed. Or any kind, because that shit is the only thing I'm capable of. And if that's the case I'll just have to suck it up and go into fucking celibate because I can't be who I am even behind locked doors anymore. I'm having the playroom and the spare apartment cleared as soon as possible because I just won't be able to live with myself knowing I'm doing the same things to women as the fucker that assaulted my daughter. Flynn will have to step up his game and truly make my money worthwhile. I sigh as I snap open my Blackberry to e-mail Anastasia. Might as well get it fucking over with. Once I'm done I gaze over at Amber, she's sleeping heavily. I don't want to leave her on her own so I go and fetch my laptop to get some work done. After only ten minutes or so my inbox lets me know that I have e-mail from Anastasia Steele. I ignore it.

…

_**THANK YOU**__ to everyone who left encouraging, positive and constructive reviews of the last chapter! You people are amazing and I'm so happy, happy happy that you like this story! Thanks also to the sweet private messages you've sent me, I appreciate it a lot. I know I have been throwing a lot of shit at the poor characters, but things will be better soon. Starting now. Amber being assaulted by her principal was unfortunately necessary to give Christian a sort of wake-up call and do some soul searching (right on the money as usual, mkmrider ;) ) But fear not, Ana will come back and play a significant part even if she has never been and never will be, a "main character" in this story. _

_**About Ana's sexual history:**__ since some appear to have felt the need for clarification. Ana is not a virgin in this story, she's a thirty-year-old woman who has had a long relationship with José. For me it just didn't make sense for Ana to never have experienced anything sexual when she's that much older and experienced in general. I thought it would be easy to just go along with it but apparently not so here you have it in black and white ;)_

…

**As always, I ask you to PLEASE let me know what you think! Good or bad, but please be constructive rather than just asking me "what the hell I'm doing" ;) Thank you for reading!**


	22. Chapter 22

**HUGE thank you to ****whereinthewrld ****the amazing and extensive advice on everything legal. You rock!**

_**Amber**_

For once I don't snap awake but I sort of slide into consciousness, slowly coming to. I'm hugging a cushion like I used to when I was little with my special pillow. I wonder if that pillow made it into one of the boxes Taylor got from grandma's and grandpa's house. I kind of hope so. I open my eyes and turn over carefully. The coffee table is cleared and dad is still on the couch with me, working on his laptop. He looks over at me and folds it up.

"Hey there, you." He says with a small smile. "Sleep ok?"

I nod. I actually did sleep pretty well.

"What time is it?" I ask groggily and rub my eyes as I sit up. Without realizing I make a face because it's so unpleasant to sit and dad throws me a weird look.

"It's a little after ten." He answers to my question and I feel my face drop. It was barely noon when we left my school. "You were exhausted." Dad adds. "You needed every minute of it." He sighs before saying:

"We'll have to get you some help for that; you need to sleep at night."

I sigh too. _Sure, I'd love to sleep at night if I could. _But it's just hard, I keep waking up and once I wake up it's so hard to go back to sleep. I have never had great sleeping habits but lately it's been through the roof.

"Are you hungry?" Dad asks me and I shake my head. Since the last thing I did before falling asleep was to eat I feel like I've just eaten.

"I'd like for you to eat something." Dad says but he doesn't sound reprimanding at all, just like concerned. "Isn't there anything you think you might want?"

I hesitate.

"Amber?"

"Ice cream." I mumble, blushing because I'm so sure dad won't approve. He doesn't like skipping real meals in favor of sweet stuff. But to my great surprise, dad's face just bursts into a huge grin.

"Sure, let's have some ice cream." He says simply. "I'll ask Taylor to pick some up from the store, what flavor do you want?"

"Ehm… Strawberry." I reply, a bit confused. "Thanks"

"Of course." Dad is already texting Taylor. I lean back against the cushions and close my eyes again. I'm still tired, it's insane.

"Amber" Dad grabs my ankle gently and shakes my foot to make me look at him again. "You know we need to talk; I think it's best to just get it over with. Would you like some tea at least?"

"No thanks." I swallow. I know I have to but I don't feel up for this talk. I never will, it's just too embarrassing.

"First things first." Dad begins. "I want you to know that what happened with that girl, Rebecca Darcy, will be taken care of. Statements have been taken from everyone who saw what happened in the corridor and it's very clear that you were provoked and everyone knows that she accused you of something you did not do. Even her parents."

"What?" I'm confused and dad keeps talking:

"While you were asleep I called her mother. June Darcy just happens to run a small manufacturing company that I've been taking an interest in lately. She's a sharp woman it seems, but she has trouble getting the company to make very big profits. Anyway, Mrs. Darcy was at the hospital with her daughter when I called to suggest that we solve this without involving police and authority and she agreed. She told me she knew Rebecca had deliberately tried to get you in trouble because of a phone call she had received from the mother of your classmate, Audrey Jameson. Audrey had overheard Rebecca saying to one of her friends that you had taken her bag, by mistake I know, and that she finally would be able to get to you. Mrs. Darcy appeared to be quite upset with her daughter."

I nearly want to cry, I have clearly not appreciated Audrey enough. As soon as I get my phone back I have to call her and thank her. Dad glares at me seriously.

"Amber, I need to ask you something. Have you ever given that Rebecca girl any reason to want you to get in trouble?" His voice is deadly calm, but not judging. I can tell that while he might be cool about it whatever my reply is he wants a truthful answer.

"No" I shake my head. "Not that I know of, she's never liked me so I've just always tried to avoid her."

"Okay." Dad sighs before smiling a little. "I know that you punched her after the things she said about me."

I flush somewhat and dad is back to serious. He moves a bit closer to me and takes my hand before looking into my eyes.

"While I appreciate you defending my name, I don't ever want you to fight my battles for me." He tells me. "And definitely not by using violence but you don't need me to lecture you about that right now."

I actually don't. I feel so bad about hitting someone; I never want to do it again.

"So…" I squirm a little. "What will happen? They just won't do anything about it?"

"Well, I explained that you've had a rough time lately, about your grandfather and how it's been a difficult change for you to live with me." Dad says. "She was quite understanding. In turn she told me that Rebecca has always found it difficult to be the only one in your class on a scholarship, that it makes her suspicious and even resentful towards the other girls. And I believe I am definitely among the top five wealthiest parents at your school so maybe that's why she targeted you. I have my lawyers prepared in case Mrs. Darcy changes her mind but I'm fairly certain she won't. Based on what I've seen in her background check I think she seems pretty solid and so does her husband. He's owns a hardware store."

I don't know what significance it has that Mr. Darcy has a hardware store but I do know that dad always makes a point of knowing peoples' trade so I don't mention it. Not that I would anyway.

"However" Dad sighs again. "She'd like for you girls to meet and apologize to each other. I told her you were not feeling well and that I'd check if you'd be up for it and then maybe we can do it sometime during the weekend. But it's important for you to be honest, if you don't feel up for it, or don't want to at all, you need to tell me."

"I want to." I say immediately. "I shouldn't have punched her, I feel so guilty."

Dad looks almost surprised but collects himself really quickly.

"I'll make the arrangements." He says and I nod slowly.

I know that we've gotten to the hard part of this talk and dad knows it too; he squeezes my hand harder.

"That creep will pay for what he did to you, Amber. He had no right and he crossed so many lines." Dad's voice is low and sincere and there's a glint of anger in his eyes. "I will make sure that he pays."

"Will I have to testify?" I feel panic rising in my chest at the thought of having to stand in front of a judge and talk about the embarrassing punishment I got. Even more panic at attorneys questioning me about it. I try to breathe slowly and calmly and dad puts his hand in my hair and looks me in the eye.

"No" He says. "I will not make you go through that ordeal. Sure, for Fitzgerald to get the maximum punishment we would need to push it to trial but I think the best thing for you will be to have it done with as soon as possible, meaning we'll settle it out of court. You will not have to see him and it will blow over more quickly and not attract as much media attention."

I nod, calming down somewhat but feeling a little queasy at the thought of media attention. I kind of get that with dad being such a well-known person and also like super private in the press, people will be all over something like this. Dad lets go of my head but keeps my hand in his.

"You know, to be able to assault charges we'll need to provide the police with pictures." He says slowly.

It gets harder to breathe again.

"Like… Like…" I can't finish the sentence, barely begin it.

"We need to take photographs of your bottom and legs." _Oh my god, he's serious._

I feel my eyes fill up with tears and dad wipes them away with his thumb and then lets his hand rest on my shoulder.

"We need to do it tonight, and then every day for a few days to document the bruising. To build a stronger case." Dad tells me. "I could take the pictures, or if you'd feel better I can call your grandmother or Kate. Or Mrs. Jones, should you prefer."

The idea of anyone taking pictures of my bare butt is so humiliating. Humiliating like when Mr. Fitzgerald hit me. In my head, I'm back bent over the desk, completely at his mercy and so stupidly helpless and I feel the pain in my chest as I try to catch my breath. Dad quickly rises from the couch and brings me up with him, guiding me to the kitchen area and handing me a bottle of water from the fridge. I drink and taking big gulps of water helps me calm down a little. Dad stands beside me, warily looking on while I drink and holding onto my shoulder and stroking my back as I do. Dad looks at me for a moment with a huge frown on his face.

"You understand that we have to do it?" He asks me, taking the water bottle and putting it on the breakfast bar.

I nod reluctantly.

"You want me to ring your grandma?"

I shake my head. I don't want anyone to know. It's ridiculous because I get that people probably find out eventually but I still don't want dad to call grandma over to take those freaking pictures.

"So me?" Dad asks softly.

I nod, more tears spilling over. Dad hugs me to him and kisses my hair.

"It will be over quickly, I swear." He says. "Do you want to get it done straight away or wait until you go to bed?"

"Now" I whisper. No point in dragging it out if it has to happen. Dad doesn't say anything, he just keeps an arm around my shoulder and leads me to his study. I walk stiffly, still hurting some. Dad puts the light up to the maximum and I blink. The last time I was in his study was when I discovered the Leila Williams folder on dad's desk. I shudder at the thought. Dad squeezes my shoulder before letting go and he goes to a cabinet to get his camera out. I've never seen him use it, ever. He comes back and stands before me.

"Do you want to do stand or lie down on your stomach?" He asks me. "We could go into your room so you can relax on your bed."

"No, here's ok" I mumble. I just want it done.

"All right." Dad's voice is soft. "Could you pull down your shorts for me, Amber? Just down to the middle of your thighs."

I take a deep breath and does what he says. As I start pulling my PJ shorts and panties down dad walks around me and I hear the camera click a few times as I stand with my eyes closely shut together. I have no idea why.

"Done." Dad says, his voice tight. _Maybe he didn't want to do this either, maybe he'd hoped I'd ask him to call grandma. _ I quickly pull my pants back up and dad puts the camera down on his desk before walking over to me and hugging me to him. I bury my face in his stone hard chest.

"You ok?" Dad asks me after a little while and I nod. "Good." Dad starts guiding me out of his office towards the living area. In the kitchen we run into Taylor who is putting ice cream in the freezer. Häägen-Dazs strawberry, my favorite.

"Thank you Taylor" Dad tells him.

"Yeah, thanks." I whisper.

Taylor glances at me, concern on his face. He's always been looking out for me as much as he's been looking out for dad. I don't get him.

"Are you all right, Miss Grey?" he asks me and I nod. "Very good. Will that be all?" He asks dad.

"Yes Taylor, thanks." Dad replies and strokes my shoulder. Taylor disappears and dad turns to me.

"Why don't you go make yourself comfortable on the couch and I'll be right over with the ice cream?"

"Ok." I start limping over towards the big couch. I sit down on my side in the corner, folding my legs beside me. That way I don't have to sit on the part that hurts. Dad comes over with two bowls full of ice cream. He gazes down at me.

"Does it hurt still?" He wants to know and I blush.

"A little." I admit. "Mostly when I walk or sit."

Dad puts both our bowls on the coffee table and reaches for the gray fur throw that's artfully draped over one end of the sofa. He drapes it over me and sits down, handing me one of the bowls.

"So." He says. "We're not quite done with our talk yet."

I squirm, playing with my ice cream by crushing it with my spoon. I glance over at dad and he looks seriously at me.

"I'd like to know something, Amber" He says, "Why did you let him hit you? You could have refused corporal punishment, taken the suspension instead. I know how you feel about it."

I cringe at the thought of that night three and a half weeks ago. I shrug and keep playing with my ice cream.

"Amber." Dad's voice is stern now.

A few tears escape from my eyes and one of them falls into my ice cream.

"Because…" I hate how whiny my voice sounds. "He said if I took the spanking he'd make sure you didn't find out about what I did. And he said that he's persuade Rebecca's family not to press charges."

Dad inhales sharply and I glance quickly at him. He looks angry. I shove some ice cream into my mouth to keep the tears away and to focus on something else. Now that I say it out loud it sounds so stupid. I should have realized that dad would have found out either way and that he probably had no influence over the Darcy family whatsoever.

"Amber…" Dad sighs and I'm totally prepared for him to yell at me about how stupid I was but he surprises me: "I'm so sorry."

My head shoots up and I blink at him. He continues:

"Am I right to assume that you were afraid of my reaction if I were to find out?"

I shrug once more and look down in my bowl again. My ice cream is starting to melt so I put it away. Dad does the same and grabs my chin to make me look at him.

"Is that it? You were afraid I'd be angry with you?"

"Well, is that so strange?" I burst out and shake my head out of his grip. "If I had refused the freaking paddle I would have been suspended for six days, I would have missed out on so much and I know the tuition is like crazy expensive…"

"Jesus, Amber!" Dad hisses, interrupting me. "It's the second time today that you've been worried about your costing me money. It's not an issue, I don't care about the fucking tuition, I care about you."

I flinched when he snapped and dad sighs, taking my hand in both of his and stroking my wrist with his thumb.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes. "I didn't mean to snap at you, and it's my own fault that you felt you couldn't have me knowing. I've been… Such a bad father to you. Last week, I dropped a very big piece of news on you and when you were upset about it I left you to your own devices. Sure, you weren't exactly on your best behavior but I should have…" He sighs. "I was too harsh. And then I was neglectful. I just… I didn't know what to do or say. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this."

"I thought you hated me." I say, my voice thick as if I have something in my throat. Dad squeezes my hand harder.

"Oh baby." He sighs again. "You have to understand that there is nothing, _nothing, _that could ever make me hate you. No matter what you do or what happens, I'll always love you. Ok?"

I'm a bit uncomfortable because it's so extremely rare for dad to talk like this but I nod and he leans forward to kiss my head.

"I'll try to be more patient." Dad adds. "But when I do get mad it's not because I want to be mean to you or because I don't care about you, just the opposite."

I know he means well so I nod again. Then I realize what he said before, that he might not be "cut out for this".

"Do you still want me to live here?" I ask and my voice is so quiet I almost don't think dad's heard me but then he replies in a tight voice:

"Yes. I do. But like I said, I also want what's best for you and there's a possibility that living with me isn't it." He pauses for a moment and I hold my breath. "For now though you'll need to remain here, I'd like you to stay at least until we've found Leila. She's unstable and she might be after you somehow. I need to be able to keep an eye on you and of course there's everything that happened today. But once Leila has been found and things calm down, we should discuss it again. Maybe living at Kate and Elliott's would be better, you'd be a part of a real family."

No, I wouldn't. I would live with a real family and be someone who's always an outsider. I start crying before I can stop myself and dad looks surprised. He moves closer and puts an arm around me.

"Hey…" he says. "Do you want to live here that badly?"

"I don't know…" I sob into dad's shoulder. "I just… I don't want you to kick me out and things aren't the same anymore. This is home now"

As I say it I realize that it's true. I can't imagine living anywhere else, or I mean I can but I don't want to. A lot of stuff has happened since grandpa died and I moved in here but it kind of feels like there's no going back. There is no going back, the house I used to live in is not mine anymore.

"Well" Dad sounds confused, which is not very common. "I can't tell you how happy that makes me, Amber. Of course you'll always have a home here with me; I would never make you go anywhere if you don't want to."

"I don't" I mumble.

"Ok." Dad hugs me a little tighter. "End of discussion then."

I snivel and lean back from him as I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. Jeez, I've become such a crybaby. I lean against the back of the couch, resting my head on it. Dad looks down at me warily.

"How do you feel? Tired?"

"Mmm."

"I think we should call it a day, we'll have a lot to take care of in the morning, you'll have to give a statement to the police for one, and you need your rest." Dad says and glances at his watch. I sigh, not looking forward to tomorrow at all. "Come" Dad rises from the couch, bringing me with him.

"Go brush your teeth and wash your face." Dad says. "I'll be right with you; I need to go get something."

"Ok"

Once I'm done in the bathroom I go out to my room to find dad already there.

"I watched you sleeping earlier and thought you might like to have this." Dad holds out my pillow from when I was little. The same as last time I saw it, baby pink and washed out with a print of a panda on it.

"Thank you" I take it and bury my face in it. It's so soft and worn and the smell is so familiar it nearly makes me cry for the umpteenth time today. Dad puts a hand on my back and guides me into my bed before putting the cover around me. I hug my pillow to my chest, I'm way too old for this but I've missed it. Dad sits down at my bedside and strokes my hair.

"I didn't know this even made it here." I mumble, referring to the pillow.

"It did, I made sure of it." Dad smirks down at me. "I remember a time when you were around four and your grandparents forgot to pack it. Let's say I'm very glad it only happened that one time."

I smile sadly. I don't remember that specific time but I remember how important that pillow used to be so I can imagine it. I roll over so I'm on my stomach as opposed to my side and I'm reminded again of the pain in my backside. I feel an ache in my tummy as I think about what happened in school. _Oh shot, school…_

"Dad?"

"Yes?" His hand keeps stroking my hair, my braid is getting kind of messy.

"Do I have to go back to school?" My voice is very quiet.

"Are you joking?" Dad snorts. "Of course you don't have to go back to school."

"So I'll have to start a new school?" I'm not overly excited at that prospect either.

"No, we'll go with private tutors from now on." Dad shakes his head. "If your classmates and principals lash out at you because of me then I don't want you to go to school at all."

"You mean never?" I am in shock. _Oh no, that wasn't what I was going for!_

Dad hesitates and half turn and stand on my elbow.

"Let's see after this school year." He says. "We'll discuss it in the summer."

"As in actually like, discuss?" I ask suspiciously. "I'll get to have a say."

Irritation flashes through dad's eyes but then he closes them and takes a breath before saying:

"Yes, Amber. You'll have a say."

I lie back down and sigh. I'm actually relieved that I don't have to go back to my old school; I don't want to be known as the girl who broke another girl's jaw.

"Why aren't you mad at me for getting into all this trouble?" I mumble into my panda pillow.

"I told you, I know you were provoked." Dad sighs. "Do we need to have this discussion again?"

"No, but…" I try to find the right thing to say. "You're like the king of self-control. Any kind of control, really. It doesn't make sense for you to be ok with me losing it and fighting in school."

"You flatter me." Dad chuckles. "Actually, when I was your age I had been expelled from two schools, the reason being fighting with other students in both cases. I was quite the brawler."

"What?" Now I am seriously in shock. I had no idea! "Is that true?"

"Very true." Dad confirms. "I know what it's like to lose it, I've had to practice my self-control."

"Wow." I manage to get out. Dad bends forward to look me in the eye.

"We're more alike than you might think, Amber." He says. "But you're already so much better."

_What does that mean? _

"I can see how bad you feel about it" Dad clarifies. "I wouldn't have, I would have thought she had it coming."

I frown, not knowing how to respond and dad squeezes my shoulder.

"Time for you to get some more rest." He declares. "You need it. I'll lie down with you until you fall asleep."

He rises, walks around the bed and does so. I roll back on my stomach and bury my face in the special pillow as dad switches the lights off.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" He's starting to sound impatient.

"I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." Every trace of irritation has left his voice. "Always. Now sleep."

"Ok" I mumble. Then I sleep.

…

_**A loooot of talking in this chapter, I hope you didn't find it boring! Do let me know how you liked it. As always, THANK YOU for your wonderful reviews, your support and welcome to any new reader! Knowing that you enjoy the story and want more makes me write both faster and, at least I hope, better. In the next chapter there will be a little Ana I think, might be fun to know for those of you who like that aspect of the story! And more soul-searching for Christian and possibly a visit to Dr. Flynn (as much as I hated that character in the books…) xx**_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter first published: 12****th**** of September 2012**

_**Christian**_

It's been a long day and it's barely four o'clock yet. The police were here this morning to take Amber's statement and after a quick lunch (prepared by Mrs. Jones, who insisted on working the weekend) Taylor drove us to the Darcy house for the girls to meet. I was not impressed with that Rebecca girl, her apology to Amber sounded like a fucking homework she'd learned by heart. Amber however was so sincere and frail in her heartfelt apology for punching Rebecca that I swear I saw June Darcy wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. Mr. Darcy seemed quite taken with my daughter as well and even Rebecca squirmed in her leather armchair. _Best for her. _I got Amber there as soon as possible, I don't want her to be reminded of the shit that happened yesterday more than absolutely necessary. While she was incredibly brave and gave her statement to the police without blinking, I could see it put a strain on her. _My pride and joy. _I've been reminded today of what a wonderful kid I have somehow managed to create. It's quite remarkable that she's the offspring of someone like me.

"Amber?" I walk over to her where she's sitting in the big couch in the living area, on her side, and reading some book with a crocodile on the cover. "What are you reading?"

"I don't know actually" She frowns. "I've kind of been staring at the same sentence since I started."

I snort with laughter.

"Maybe it's a sign." I suggest and she keeps the confused look on her face.

"Of what?"

"That you should be doing something else." I grin at her. "What do you say, do you want to take a trip in Charlie Tango?"

"Where to?" Amber is beginning to look more intrigued, and she closes her book.

"I don't know, anywhere." I shrug. "Portland maybe. We could stay at the Heathman."

"Don't I need to be here for like, legal stuff?" Amber asks.

"You're not accused of anything" I remind her and she smiles a little. "But you're right, we can't be gone long. It would just be overnight. To get your mind of things. How does that sound?"

She plays with the hem of her gray knitted dress for a moment and then looks up at me smiling wider.

"It sounds good" She says and I smile back at her. _Good choice, baby girl._

"Good" I sit down on the couch next to her as I begin to write a text to Taylor to make the arrangements. We'll leave in a couple of hours; we should be in Portland by nine at latest."

"Ok" Amber rises from the couch. "I'll go pack some stuff"

"Do that" I watch her as she leaves; her walking seems much more at ease today. Good.

I don't know if my spontaneous decision to get away is a good one but I don't give a fuck at the moment. I can't stand walking around and just waiting to hear from my lawyers, I need to do something. I definitely know what I'd most like to do but that's definitely not the good thing right now. I feel a stupid pinch in my stomach as I think about Ana Steele, what we could have had. I hope I haven't hurt her too much.

…

"This is nice" Amber says, her eyes wide as we enter the biggest suite at the Heathman Hotel in Portland.

"I know" I kiss her head as I put down my bag on the couch after having tipped the bellhop. I forget that she hasn't seen the inside of very many luxurious hotels, when she's gone with her grandparents on vacation they've normally either rented a house or gone somewhere where they own property. And it's the same with my place in Aspen and New York. I can't believe how excited I get from seeing my daughter enjoy myself for the first time in so damn long; going in Charlie Tango lifted her mood a lot. She always did love to fly, she was almost too excited when she was little and came in the jet. Up until a certain age she didn't quite understand the need for seatbelts and kept unstrapping herself to run around and look through all the windows during take-off. She was a fast little thing too, not always easy to catch. Today however, she stayed strapped-in while riding in the helicopter.

"It's not too late to go down to the restaurant" I tell Amber. "We could do that or we could stay up here and order room service and watch a movie. What would you prefer?"

"Stay here." Amber replies with a yawn and then looks at me. "If that's ok?"

"Of course." I walk over to the mahogany desk to fetch the room service menu and hand it to my daughter. "Have a look and see what you'd like, I'll make a phone call."

"Ok" Amber buries her face in the menu, much to my delight. It seems that she may finally be getting some appetite back, she's had both a proper breakfast and a decent lunch today and she actually asked herself if Gail could prepare her a sandwich before we left earlier. I walk into one of the bedrooms and close the door for privacy.

"Any news?" I snap into the phone as soon as Jordan, my attorney, answers the phone.

"Mr. Grey." He says formally. "I dare say we have a pretty solid case, the police searched Fitzgerald apartment since they found some disturbing pictures on his office computer. Let me tell you sir, some of this shit is sick. But it's damn good news for us, there is no way in hell that the guy won't get at least six years."

"Oh?" My voice is cold and tight.

"Let me put it like this, there's a lot of latex and whips"

I nearly drop the phone.

"I see." I'm feeling a little dizzy so I sit down. "Anything else I should know?"

Jordan hesitates; he knows my temper quite well after working for me since many years back.

"It seems he's been videotaping every paddling he's given out since he became the headmaster."

_Oh, fucking shit!_

"The stupid idiot hadn't even erased the one of your daughter, even if he must have understood that you would be pressing charges." Jordan chuckles.

Tactless bastard, but he's very good at what he does. He continues:

"Like I said before Mr. Grey, this is good for our case. There's a good chance he went overboard with the other girls too, and then with all the perverse things in his home there'll be grounds to sue him for sexual assault too."

"Right." I clear my throat. "So when do you think we might be done with all of this?"

"Not long." Jordan's response is instant. "I'll work as fast as I can and the fellow would be stupid not to plead guilty and take a settlement, when it's being offered to him. You could easily push this to court if you should wish, sir. With me as your attorney you're guaranteed to have him put away for ten years."

"Well, I don't want it to go to court!" I hiss because I've told him this several times already. "I don't want my daughter to have to testify, I want her part to be over and done with so she can focus on healing, physically and emotionally."

"Yes, of course." Jordan says quickly. "We'll do our worst outside of court, don't worry Mr. Grey. We'll get him to take a plea bargain that's as little in his favor as humanly possible."

"Glad to hear it." I mutter into the phone. "Keep me posted on the progress."

"Will do Mr. Grey."

We hang up and I run my hands through my hair. _Fuck. _Fitzgerald really is a damn sadist. Like I am, I am like him. I know in my head that there's a significant difference between what I do to consenting adults and what he's done to minors but right now, I don't feel it. I feel like I am exactly what he is, meaning I'm one of the lowest creatures walking this earth. I've had this coming. Karma. The thought now that I was on the verge of giving Amber a fucking paddling on the day of her grandfather's funeral sickens me to the core of my pathetic being. What mustn't she think of me? I didn't do it but if she hadn't had a panic attack I would have. I wouldn't have hurt her like Fitzgerald did but still. I have to talk to her about this, or have her see Flynn, or both. I've been meaning to take her to see him anyway. And I have a few things to discuss with him as well. Not looking forward to it, not one bit. I quickly go into the bathroom, splash some cold water on my face and go back to Amber. She's reading her crocodile book again.

"Have you managed to get through the first page yet?" I sit down next to her.

"Yeah, it's pretty interesting." She nods into the book.

"What's it about?"

"Still don't know, it's pretty weird." She smiles awkwardly and I reach out to stroke her hair.

"When you were little you used to read your grandmother's books even though you didn't understand everything that happened in them" I remember. "But you were so persistent, you wouldn't start reading something without finishing it even if you didn't get half of it. Maybe that's why you're so smart."

"Do you think I'm smart?" Amber murmurs dubiously.

"Amber." I roll my eyes at her. "I think you're probably too smart for your own good. Always have been. Did you understand the room service menu or do you want me to explain it to you?" I ask with raised eyebrows and Amber lets out a little laugh. I can hardly remember the last time she did that, it's wonderful to see.

"No, I got it." She says. "Two for one on everything but salad, the cheapest course is on the house."

"Really?" I frown. That sounds like something a poor restaurant chain would offer, not a respectable hotel. I hope they haven't lowered their standard. Then I notice the grin on Amber's face and I laugh with her. "Funny." I tell her. "Ok, so what do you want?"

We both order soup, with some wine for me and sprite for her. We watch some crime show that neither of us has ever seen before but it's so simple that it's easy to follow anyway. When the show is over the time is around ten thirty and since I plan for us to go gliding early in the morning I tell Amber that she should get ready for bed and that I'll be right in her room in a little bit. She sighs somewhat because she knows that I have to take pictures again before she goes to sleep. It's not something I enjoy, seeing her bruised up like that, but I'm still glad she's ok with me doing it. I think it's for the best too, making a deal of her grandmother coming over once a day to photograph her bottom would seem pretty dramatic. Not to mention that Amber obviously wants as few people as possible to know what happened. I need to find out why that is, she's got nothing to be ashamed off. I go and brush my teeth and change into a t-shirt and sweatpants before I grab the camera that I'm not sure why I own. I go into Amber and she's sitting on her bed hugging her legs, with her chin resting against her knee.

"Ok, let's get this over with." I tell her and she nods. "Just lie on your stomach for me."

We're done even quicker today than yesterday. I know that we're both uncomfortable with this, it's just not right for me to see her this way. I hope it fucking heals soon. I carefully fold Amber's nightgown down over her and she crawls up into sitting position, her face a little red. I put the camera on the nightstand and sit down on the bedside so I'm facing her. She glances at me.

"Can I see the pictures?" She asks suddenly, shocking me.

"Why?" I want to know and she shrugs.

"I just want to see, I can't look in the mirror." She mumbles.

I watch her for a moment and then hand her the camera. She switches it on and browses through the pictures. Soundlessly, tears start running down her pretty little face and something turns in my stomach. How am I supposed to deal with this? I don't know what to tell her to make her feel better.

"He'll go to prison" I settle for, and take the camera from Amber's hands, switching it off and putting it on the nightstand. "My lawyer says he'll be looking at six years at least"

Amber glances up at me.

"It looks horrible" She mumbles.

"No lasting harm done." My voice is tight. "You'll heal."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

_She cannot know how I know._

Amber lies down in bed, on her side, and faces the light on her nightstand. I stroke the hair from her face, she needs to get that fringe cut. I should book her an appointment, tomorrow maybe. I sigh because I know I need to say this:

"Amber…" I start hesitantly. "You remember the night of your grandfather's funeral?"

She turns her head to look at me and because I'm holding her hair from her face I can see the worry that flashes through them before I go on:

"I want you to know that whatever had happened, if I had gone through with my ludicrous plan to punish you physically, the outcome would not have been like this."

Now there's definitely relief in her eyes.

"Oh." She breathes. "I know that. I thought you were going to say you'd changed your mind about how you'll punish me when I fuck up."

I stare at her for a moment. _Is she serious? _I'm filled with guilt for a moment before I manage to get any words out.

"Mind your language." Is what makes it past my lips. "And if you seriously think that I would change my mind about what I already described as ludicrous I think I have to take back what I said earlier about you being smart."

Amber blushes somewhat and I shake my head at her.

"Sorry" She mutters.

"So am I" I tell her. "For not getting you out of that fucking school earlier."

"Mind your language, there are children around." Amber smiles up at me.

"I'm a grown-up, I can do what I want" _The question is whether I should._

I kiss my daughter's head and rise from the bed, folding the cover over her.

"Time for bed." I tell her. "We have an early start tomorrow."

"I know." Amber replies with a yawn. "Good night, dad"

"Good night, my little one." I switch of her light and leave the room, and go out to dial room service. If there's any chance of me going to sleep at all tonight I'm going to need a fucking herbal tea.

…

"Grey" I snap harshly into the Blackberry when it rings at three o'clock, cursing whatever idiot has woken me from my for once undisturbed rest.

It's Gail. I listen intently to what she has to say and I'm appalled by what I hear. Leila has somehow made it into the apartment and slit her wrists right in front of poor Mrs. Jones. _Shit_ What is it with that woman and slicing herself open?She's in the hospital now, restrained. Thank god for Mrs. J. Whatever is it they say about unfortunate events rarely coming on their own? Those fuckers are obviously right.

…

**Thank you, as always for your lovely response for the last chapter. Please do let me know how you liked this one! Somewhat of a filler chapter maybe but still, now things are seriously starting to happen, and I want to clear some things out:**

**Christian will in the coming chapters doubt himself and his sexual lifestyle and go on a pretty heavy soul-searching journey with lots of self-loathing and heavy machinery. HOWEVER, I very much realize and appreciate that there is a huge difference between having bdsm preferences and being someone who takes pleasure in corporally punishing children. And rest assured, Christian will realize this too and go back to enjoying what he used to, with help from…**

**ANA! Who will come back soon; she has not played her final part in this story.**

…

_**On a different note… : I take pride in coming up with the events and ideas for this story on my own. I would never knowingly "borrow" or use events that occur in the same way in someone else's story without asking for permission and crediting the author in question (so if you see anything in my story that's very similar to something published before mine, let me know!). I appreciate that character's reactions and emotions are sometimes not possible to make any different, because we're all writing about the same characters! BUT, if you take things that happened here and just use them as your own without giving me any credit (just mentioning my pen name and my story is enough) then I consider that copying and it doesn't make me angry more than anything, above all it makes me SAD. While it's flattering that someone likes my ideas and my writing enough to feel inspired by it, I lose motivation if I read about the same things a few days later in another story. Thank you!**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**Amber**_

_I wake up slowly, rubbing the sleep out and then I see her by the window. She looks like a ghost, her brown hair is dirty and her skin super pale. Her eyes look dead. She lifts a knife and stabs herself in the stomach. Over and over and over. I try to scream but I have lost my voice. Her blood starts running like a waterfall, it never stops. It's all over the floor, rising, rising, rising. I can't move. I can't move from my bed. The blood floods the room and it's drenching me, drowning me. I can't breathe, I try once more to scream and I make an attempt at swimming but I never reach the surface. I'm drowning, drowning, drowning, drowning…_

"Amber" I feel someone slap my cheek lightly. "Amber!"

I sit up gasping for air, nearly knocking into dad who is sitting at my side. My heart is pounding fast and hard. I let out a stupid little sob before I fall into dad's open arms.

"Jesus, baby." Dad mutters and hugs me tight. "That must have been some nightmare, huh?"

"Mmm" Is all I manage to choke out.

"You had a panic attack in your sleep." Dad puts his hands on my shoulders and pulls away to look at me. "Do you remember what it was about?"

I nod and shudder slightly.

"Want to tell me?"

For once I actually can; I remember everything. But I don't want to think about it, I don't want to relive it.

"I was drowning in blood." I mumble.

"Yours?" Dad's voice is tight as his grip on my shoulders hardens a bit. I think he can sense that I don't really want to talk about it.

"No."

"I see. Looked like it felt real, I thought you were choking."

"Felt like it too"

Dad squeezes my shoulders before he lets go of them. I gaze up at him and in the dark I can see that he's really tense as if he's mad. But for once I don't think it's me he's mad at.

"Sorry I woke you" I murmur anyway and dad snorts.

"I was awake." He kisses my head and rises. "Come on."

Dad takes my arm and gets me out of bed before he puts a hand on my back and leads me across the living area to the master bedroom of the suite.

"What are we doing?" I ask, confused.

"Your bed is too small for us both and I don't want you to sleep on your own tonight." Dad says like it's obvious. He's never ever let me sleep in his bed, no matter how bad my nightmares were or how homesick I was as a little kid.

"I'm too old to sleep in my parents' bed." I tell dad as he lets go of me and unfolds the cover from the side he hasn't slept on.

Dad throws me an irritated glance.

"Call it compensating then, get in." He lifts the covers for me and with a sigh I climb into the gigantic bed. I didn't know they made beds this big and I definitely don't know why the one in my room here is so small in comparison.

"It's not like I'm not gonna kill myself in my sleep." I mutter as dad is walking around to the other side.

"Don't say shit like that!" He snaps harshly at me and rips his duvet up to his waist. I blink and curl up on my side, facing away from dad and lying as close to the edge of the bed as possible, looking out over the dark room. I hear dad sighing and then I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap." He tells me but then his voice is stern again. "But I don't want you to talk that way, or argue with me right now. If there's any hope for me to go back to sleep at all tonight I need to know I'll hear if you have more terrors, ok?"

"Ok." I know I sound a little grumpy but dad just squeezes my shoulder and leans over to kiss my temple before lying back down. "Dad?"

"Yes, Amber?"

"Do we really have to get up super early tomorrow?"

"No" Dad lets out a little chuckle. "We can go gliding later in the day, it's just if we had wanted to see the sunrise."

"Do you really want to?"

"I've seen the sun rise before, it's up to you." Dad's voice is soft and patient now.

"I guess it will rise again." I say with a yawn. "I'd rather sleep."

"Good decision" My eyes are closed but it feels as if I can hear dad smirking.

I start to drift off and I actually feel pretty safe knowing my dad's right there if the bloody nightmare comes back. It's kind of nice.

…

_**Christian**_

I groan as the fucking hotel phone wakes me up. I run a hand through my hair and reach for it. _What time is it? _The drapes are closed but the sun is simmering through the cracks. Late morning.

"Grey" I answer the phone quietly not to wake my daughter.

"Mr. Grey, there is an Anastasia Steele here in the lobby for you." Says the voice of a receptionist.

What the hell, Ana is here? Whatever is that about? This weekend is getting weirder and weirder. As of yet I'm not sure about how to best deal with the Leila situation. I'll have to figure it out, one thing that I do know is that as few people as possible can find out about it. And Amber can absolutely not know about it, it would fucking break her. I glance over at my daughter; she's sleeping soundly. My little girl had quite a rough night, that dream she had can't have been a walk in the park. I turn my focus back to what I'm going to do about the ever-surprising Miss Steele. I do the only thing I feel I can, even if I dread it to my great annoyance.

"Send her up."

I hang up the phone. Jesus Christ, what _is _she doing here? I get out of bed and quickly exchange my sweatpants for dark jeans before I go out to the living area of the suite. I only wait a few moments before there's a light tap on the door. I go to open it and see Taylor who's always notified when someone asks to see me, and of course the lovely Anastasia. She's carelessly dressed in jeans and a shirt that's too big for her with a big scarf around her neck and her hair in a high ponytail. She affects me the way she has since I met her, making me feel exposed. And lusting.

"It's fine Taylor, thank you." I mutter to Taylor before I usher Ana inside, my lips tightly pursed. I'm annoyed now. "What are you doing here, Anastasia? This is not a good time." I ask her sternly and I see her flinch slightly before she has the nerve to scowl at me.

"You're not the only one who's capable of stalking, Mr. Grey." She bites off. "I wanted to see you, I had to see you and ask you face to face what the hell you're playing at."

"Excuse me?" I can't believe what I'm hearing.

"Excuse me yourself." She hisses. "Make your mind up already! You can't just switch back and forth between finding me irresistible and thinking I'm despicable."

"I don't think you're despicable." I breathe, surprised. _Why would she think that? I thought it was obvious how much I wanted her._

"Don't you think I can do it?" She goes on. "I told you I'd consider the contract and you told me to think carefully about it too before signing, so the problem can hardly be that my immediate response to that dungeon of yours wasn't "oh yes sir, please beat the shit out of me!"

"For fuck's sake, Ana!" I hiss at her. "My daughter is sleeping in the next room!"

"Oh" For a moment, she looks completely lost. And oh, how I love to see that. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know Amber was with you."

I shrug.

"She is. So you see now that the timing is bad; Amber has had a rough time lately so I brought her here to get away from it all for a day"

"I really didn't mean to intrude. Sorry"

Her blush is so exquisite that I wave her apology off.

"Well, you're here now. And you've done your research." I comment, cocking my head towards the sofa for her to sit down and she flushes at my words.

"How do you know?"

We both sit down and I smirk at her.

"The term 'dungeon'." I explain. "I prefer playroom but dungeon is indeed used among some people in bdsm circles."

"Your circles." Ana looks at me warily and I shake my head.

"I can't do that shit anymore."

"Why not?"

I can't tell her.

"I just can't."

"You can tell me." She says quietly. "I signed an NDA."

"That you did." I sigh before adding: "It's for your sake, Anastasia. You're so innocent and I don't want to corrupt you."

"I'm perfectly able of corrupting myself thank you" She snorts, making me curious. "And I'm not innocent; I've _lived _with someone for years which is more than you have to say for yourself."

True. We glare silently at each other for a few moments before I ask:

"What do you mean about you corrupting yourself?"

"Well" she starts, biting that fucking lip again. _I want to bite that lip. _"That night and that morning in New York. I don't know what you think of me but I don't usually drunk call men I hardly know and then have unprotected sex with them when I've sobered up."

_Unprotected sex… _FUCK! She must see the alarm in my eyes because she quickly adds:

"Don't worry, I'm not pregnant." She blushes. "I ehm… got my period a few days ago."

"I'm glad to hear it." I say calmly, somewhat amused with how embarrassed she seems about mentioning her cycle. "It was very reckless of me."

She sighs.

"You confuse me." Those damn eyes again, looking right through me. "You are so… mercurial. You act like you can't live without me and then you're suddenly back to not wanting me."

"I do want you." I say because it's the truth. "But you shouldn't want me."

"Too late."

I inhale sharply upon hearing her voice murmur those two little words. The look in her eyes is so sincere and then I see something else in them. Hurt. Disappointment. _I want to take that pain away. _Without being able to control myself I cover her mouth with mine. As delicious as I remember. She responds to my kiss and for a few moments I allow myself to get completely lost in her, until…

"Dad?" Amber's surprised voice makes us pull away from each other quickly. I shoot up from the sofa. _What am I, a fucking teenager?_

"Good morning, Amber." I say as if nothing strange is going on, walk over to her and kiss her head. "How did you sleep for the rest of the night?"

"Fine, thanks" Amber still looks a bit shocked. "Hi Ana"

"Hi Amber." Anastasia comes over and hugs my daughter. "So good to see you. I was in Portland to visit my old college and I found out you were here so I thought I'd drop by before I drive back to Seattle."

"You're driving back now?" Amber asks, looking disappointed.

Anastasia throws a glance at me before confirming with a nod and a smile.

"Can't Ana come with us, dad?" Amber asks me, surprising me more than Ana it seems. I had no idea she had taken to Anastasia this way.

"I don't want to intrude." Anastasia says quickly.

"No, I'd like it too." I tell her, flashing her my best smile. "Please spend the day with us."

She rolls her eyes at me before smiling at Amber.

"Sure, why not." She says. "I'd love to."

I can feel the smirk on my face. Fuck it, I'm going to have her. I have to have her; in whatever way I can. Even the hearts and flowers way.

…

**Hi everyone, thank you for your reviews! They are wonderful and your being so engaged in the story and the characters' fates is so amazing. Sorry I took so long to update, I've moved abroad so it's been a bit tricky without internet as well. Hope you liked this chapter, do let me know in a review what you think! Thank you for reading. S xx**


	25. Chapter 25, part 1

_**Ana**_

God, how completely and utterly embarrassing that I came here. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, and I definitely don't know what it is about this deranged man that I just can't seem to keep away from. I make a feeble attempt at arranging my ponytail into something neater where I sit on one of the sofas. They're so white and expensive that I'm actually scared to sit in them; what if I have a stain on my jeans? Since there are two bathrooms in the suite, Amber and Christian have both disappeared to shower while breakfast is on its way up. Sitting here waiting makes me feel even more stupid. Christian is back first, dressed in a white soft shirt and grey slacks that hang in that way. He looks… Sparkling. All damp darkish hair with a copper glimmer, white teeth and stubble. He hasn't shaved, and the thought of running my fingers across his cheek makes something tingle inside me. Before either of us says anything, there's a knock on the door. Christian smirks at me and goes to open. We stand looking at each other while the table is being set up with all kinds of different breakfast foods, like the time I went to his apartment. Christian tips the room service and sharply turns to pick up his Blackberry that has started ringing.

"Yes" He snaps into it. _Is he always that rude on the phone? _"How is she?" He then mutters quietly. "Fucking Christ. Keep me posted John. Thanks"

He shuts his phone and again we're interrupted before we can speak, this time by Amber coming into the room. She looks so effortlessly well put together the way only wealthy people can in her dark gray cotton dress with off-white polka dots, off-white leggings and angora shrug with gray converse on her feet. I wonder if she always wears dresses; I've never seen her in anything else. She's putting her hair up in a ponytail as she walks towards the table.

"Sit down, Ana" Christian says and holds out a chair for me, at the end of the table. I sit down.

Christian then does the same for Amber but reaches for a cushion on the sofa which he slips on the chair before she sits down. Amber gives him a look I can't quite interpret and Christian squeezes her shoulder before sitting down on the chair on the other end. I try not to stare and start filling my plate instead, even though I'm not at all hungry. Why would Christian put a cushion on Amber's chair? A thought springs into my head and it makes me cringe. Maybe he spanked her. If he'd want to punish me that way for rolling my eyes I'm sure there are many things that a teenager could do to agitate such a man. Good god, maybe he is a pervert. _No, he isn't. _The voice in my head is clear and strong. I know Christian is a good person. Why I know is a different matter though.

"Please Anastasia, eat." Christian looks at me disapprovingly. Both he and Amber are halfway through their mushroom omelets. "We'll need to get going soon."

"What exciting plans did you have for the day that I get to be a part of?" I ask them both and Amber smiles at me while Christian just snorts, probably annoyed that I led the conversation away from my lack of appetite.

"Do you like surprises?" Amber surprises me by asking.

"Good surprises maybe" I glance at Christian, who is smirking.

"Let's not tell." Amber declares and looks at Christian, who agrees.

"Let's not." His voice is soft and when Amber gets back to her food I see him watching her. The look on his face is quite touching; there is so much fondness in his eyes. It's so obvious that he loves his daughter very much. But he also looks sad somehow and I wonder why that is. So many things I'd like to know about this man.

I just hope he'll give me a chance to.

…

_**Christian**_

It is such a joy to see Amber have some fun for the first time in so long, I almost forget about Leila's stunt last night. And of course, I have the delightful little Miss Steele to distract me as well. I'm still annoyed that for the second time I'm trying to spend quality time with my daughter she manages to come in between. It's not her fault, I know. And as long as Amber doesn't mind, I suppose there isn't really a problem. After gliding, something both girls seemed to enjoy immensely, I got Taylor to drive us into town so Amber could go to a hairdresser. Earlier today the wind blew that damn fringe straight into her eye, turning it red within seconds. She didn't seem to mind the idea when I told her I had had Taylor book her a haircut. And while she's the salon getting pampered I get to sit at the café across the street and enjoy Anastasia Steele. She seems more nervous than usual though and I want to know why.

"Something on your mind, Anastasia?" I ask her, sounding snappier than I intended, as I come back with her tea and my coffee.

"A lot of things, thanks for asking." She retorts. _Ooh, careful with that sarcasm._

"Tell me" I demand.

"You're a great father"

I nearly spit out my coffee as it was the last thing I expected to hear.

"Uhm…" I'm lost for words, that doesn't happen often. "Thank you. I'm not sure I deserve it but anyway."

"She seems to love you very much, and anyone can see that you adore her." Ana smiles a little.

"Really?" I can feel the smirk spreading on my face. _Smug much, Grey?_ "Well, I think my daughter is quite easy to love, even if she has a knack for getting herself into trouble."

Ana suddenly gives me an odd look.

"What?" I ask her and take another sip of my coffee. She stirs her tea with her spoon, even if there's no milk or sugar to actually stir. Then she looks up at me again.

"Was Amber a lot of work as a child?" She wants to know for some reason.

"Not really." I mutter and tense, feeling that we've gotten into too private territory. "I only had her with me on weekends and some holidays until my father passed away. She was fine mostly, but children are children, they're bound to screw up sometimes."

Ana keeps looking at me.

"Have you ever spanked her when she has?"

Why the _fuck _does she want to know that? I should refuse to answer such a thing but I still say in a tight voice.

"Yes."

"Recently?"

"No." I get sick of this. "Why do you want to know these things, Anastasia?"

She blushes.

"I just noticed that you put a cushion on Amber's chair this morning."

I can't help but letting out a laugh.

"Nothing gets past you, Miss Steele." Then I turn serious. "It's not my place to tell what happened. Amber will if she wants to."

I can see the curiosity dancing over her pretty face but since Amber wouldn't even let me tell her own grandmother what had happened I won't tell someone she barely knows. Anastasia doesn't ask anything else.

"I have only punished Amber that way once." I tell Anastasia and I don't know why I share this information. "She scared me to fucking death. She was five years old, and went on the balcony in spite of the fact that she wasn't allowed to on her own. My darling daughter then climbed up on the railing and started tight rope walking. She wanted to become a circus artist" I clarify "I got to her just before she fell."

"Oh my god." Anastasia mumbles. "That must have been horrible."

"It was not a good day for either of us." I sigh. "Apparently I scared her too, I never knew until recently but my father had to talk her out of hiding every time I was to pick her up for quite some time after."

"I'm sorry"

Anastasia says and I shrug.

"We've had our moments too."

I come to think of something and pull my wallet from my inner pocket. I take out the one picture I carry inside and show it to Ana. The smile that spreads across her face is adorable.

"That's a nice picture" She says, gazing down at the small photograph with a trace of a smile on her lips.

"I know" I tell her since there's nothing else to say; it is a 'nice' picture. I move closer to her and enjoy her tensing as my shoulder touches hers. I look down on the photo myself, it's been a while since I looked at it. It was taken when Amber was two years old, on Christmas day at my parents' house. Up until then Amber hadn't quite understood who I was to her. She knew that I was her father because she had been so told and called me daddy but for all intents and purposes her grandparents were her parents. The people who put her to bed every night and gave her food; the people she accepted hugs and kisses from. The only truly terrible thing about her terrible twos was that she would hit or bite most people who showed her physical affection, with an exception of her grandparents and sometimes my sister. I was obviously fine with this but I believe I was the only one. Mia for one was absolutely devastated. My mother was worried that the baby girl might be a tad too much like me. However, I've always thought it had to do with Amber's need for independence and freedom combined with her hatred for feeling helpless. When she was two she had been walking for over a year but was so small that all the big adults could easily randomly pick her up and hold her. She hated that, when she wanted to be carried or held she let someone know and that was the only time she wanted to be carried or hold. Someone picking her up or hugging her without permission would suffer for it through angry little hands pushing and hitting and tiny little teeth biting the hands restraining her. Resulting in corner time and I believe once after a particular hard bite even a swat on her bottom from my father. The funny thing was that after being disciplined she'd always go to the person she had hit or bitten and wrap her arms around their legs, quickly pull away before they could hug back and then look up at them with a small "I'm sowwy". That melted everyone's' heart, including mine that I never thought I had. The picture I have in my wallet is one of that Christmas day, in the evening after Amber had been put in her pajamas and was taken downstairs to say good night to the adults. I had been extremely tired that Christmas, working my ass of more than usual and feeling quite bad about having hurt one of my subs while suspending her from my playroom ceiling. Amber must have picked up on that and wanted to console me because she toggled across the room on her little feet to where I was sitting in an armchair. Then she climbed up on my lap, put her arms as far around me as they would go and laid her head against my chest. I had only ever seen her do that with my parents. Everyone in the room froze; they all know how I felt about unexpected touch. My mother came over after a few moments to tell Amber that she'd said good night now and needed to go to bed but Amber shook her head. I muttered something about it being ok before I carefully put my arms around my baby girl, stroking her curly head and eventually started to relax. The conversation went back to normal after another while but I was too wrapped in my remarkable little child to keep up. Not to mention how fucking exhausted I was. Amber fell asleep in my arms and soon I fell into the rhythm of her calm breathing and drowsed off myself. That was when my mother decided it was photo moment so she took a picture of us with her camera which she later gave me. I remember being annoyed at the time but since I've been glad to have it as a memory of one of the best moments I've shared with my daughter.

…

_**Thank you for all your reviews and welcome to those of you who are new to the story! I'm very happy to see your enjoying it. This chapter is not my best but I wanted to get an update out. Sort of a filler but will lead onto more conversations about this and that and important things. And next chapter we'll be back with Amber's point of view. So bear with me and please let me know what you think! Thank you **___


	26. Chapter 25, part 2

**Before it all starts… SO sorry about the delay in update, not having internet completely and totally sucks. But I hope you like this, please let me know you're still out there! I will absolutely finish this story before Christmas. Just so you know ;)**

…

_**Amber**_

I look at myself in the mirror in the hair salon and don't really know what to think. Or actually, I know what I think. I think my new haircut is awesome. Since my fringe was so overgrown it was long enough for the hairdresser called Simon to make it into a side fringe, and that makes my face look more open and my eyes wider; frames it in a really cool way. I can see my eyebrows for once and for the first time ever I don't think it looks weird with them being so dark against my pale skin and light eyes. It just looks pretty. And my hair no longer reaches down to below my shoulder blades, but is just long enough to touch my shoulders. The longest parts that is, Simon has cut so many layers that it just looks like a soft, big mass of curls with some of them poking out here and there in all the right places. I didn't really know my hair could be _this _curly. And it's amazing; my head feels so much lighter, _I _feel much lighter. I look older and younger at the same time, like some rock chick from the eighties or something. Hair wise, I could never do the clothes unless of course I'll be allowed to go to Kate and Elliott's party. Somehow I doubt dad would let me. And that's the thing I'm not sure what to think about; what dad will say about this new haircut. He was the one who told me I needed to cut it to get it out of my eyes so he should be pleased, right? I text him to say that I'm done and on my way before I pay Simon using the card dad gave me. I thank the guy way too many times but he really did an awesome job. I walk out of the salon and go next door into the café where dad and Ana went to wait until I was done. I spot them at a table in the far corner and walk over to them. I think dad is looking right at me but his expression doesn't change. Relieved I walk over to them and when I stand right in front of the table dad's chin suddenly drops.

"Amber!" He bursts out. "I didn't recognize you."

He stands up and looks at me; Ana glances up from where she sits and smiles. I hold my breath waiting to see if dad will be angry.

"You look so beautiful, so grown-up" Dad says and kisses my forehead. "Brave move to cut off so much."

"You're not angry?" I ask him as he gets me to sit down at their table.

"Why would I be angry?" Dad frowns and I notice Ana smirking a little.

I just shrug and grin sheepishly. Dad sighs lightly and ruffles my newly ruffled hair.

"I'll get you something to drink, what do you want?" He asks me.

"Can I have a hot chocolate please?" I ask, not really knowing why I'm suddenly so in the mood for hot chocolate. Haven't had it since I was little I think but right now I totally want one. "Whipped cream but no marshmallows."

"Coming up. Ana? Another tea?"

"That would be lovely" Ana smiles up at my dad and he smiles back. I've never seen him smile at any women that way, I've barely seen him smile at anyone actually. Dad goes off to get our drinks and I look at Ana. She smiles a little shyly at me and I grin stupidly back.

"Your hair really is beautiful, Amber" Ana says. "It suits you perfectly. How did you come up with the idea to cut it that way?"

"Thanks! I didn't really come up with it." I shrug. "I just asked Simon the hairdresser to do something different and he pretty much just got to it."

"Good thing he knew his stuff."

"Yeah!" I let out a little laugh. "What have you and dad been doing?"

Ana smiles again and starts tidying the table a little bit, arranging the cups together.

"We've been talking about this and that." She says. "You mostly, you're father shared some stories from when you were little."

My eyes snap wide open. I never thought dad discussed me with other people except for maybe his shrink when I'm driving him particularly crazy.

"I didn't even know there were any stories." I mumble and feel an annoying blush on my face.

"Oh, there are some lovely ones" Ana takes her hands of the cups as a girl with like fifty piercings comes and clears the table. "Perhaps your dad remembers some of them that you don't."

"Maybe."

Ana tilts her head to the side and I feel almost uncomfortable even though I like her very much. When she looks at me with her super blue eyes I feel like I'm see-through.

"I think you and your dad have a very special bond, Amber." _What, really? _"It's so obvious how much he dotes on you, and how you love him a lot too."

"Yeah, sure." I squirm a little. "He's my dad."

"I never knew my biological father; he died when I was a baby." Ana sighs. "I have an amazing relationship with my stepdad who raised me but it's not quite the same as what I see with you and Christian. You're alike in a way that only people who are related by blood can be, you make me a little jealous actually."

"Sorry." I mutter and look up at her. "And sorry about your dad, for me it's kind of the other way around. My grandpa was kind of my stepdad; I mean he raised me and everything. But I got to know him at least."

"You're looking serious" Dad is back, he puts a tray with drinks and three different muffins on the table.

"We're talking about serious things" I explain as dad sits down. "Secret things" I add to lighten the mood because it sounds so childish and stupid.

Dad smirks and raises his eyebrows.

"I think you both know by now that I don't particularly like secrets but I'll let this one slide." He says and sips on his coffee before offering me the plate with muffins. I go for one that looks like there are orange zest in it. Dad offers the plate to Ana who takes a chocolate one, leaving blueberry for dad. We're silent for a little while but it just feels good.

"What do you ladies want to do this afternoon?" Dad asks eventually and I think about it for a moment. I kind of just don't want to go home. But I know I'll have to and I know I shouldn't put it off.

"Can't we go back to Seattle and go see a movie or something?" I suggest. If I do something fun when I come home it might be a little easier. Dad looks surprised.

"Sure." He says. "Would you like to come with us, Ana? I'll have to warn you, since this was meant to be an Amber day I'll let her choose the movie."

"Why is that something you have to warn me about?" Ana looks amused and dad smirks with a glance in my direction.

"My baby girl has very eclectic taste, she might choose the masterpiece of the decade or she may just as well pick some brain-dead college flick."

I shrug and smile apologetically.

"True." I say.

Ana looks at us both and laughs.

"Thank you for the offer." She says. "But I think I'll let you have the rest of the day to yourselves. I still have my car here, so I'll be taking that back and see you both soon hopefully."

"Of course." Dad's voice is soft but he doesn't seem too disappointed. I'm not either, I would have been glad if Ana had come with us but I'm kind of happy it's just me and dad too. I can ask him about stuff.

Suddenly I glance over to the counter and freeze when I see one of the baristas. It's Phil! Jesus freaking Christ and his aunt, I guess he must work part-time in the coffee shop. I'm thinking about looking away but I realize then that Phil knows who my dad is and what he looks like and if he's seen him he's been smart enough to keep his head down. He confirms my theory when he glances up from pouring hot milk and nods curtly. _Oh shit! _He must think I ignored him since I didn't contact him when I said my grounding would end. He can't know that I was grounded again and never actually got my laptop or my phone back, apart from when I had my phone in New York. And during those days my mind was kind of occupied with other things. Now it's not, I really want to talk to Phil. I don't know many people that I feel I can really talk to and especially not people my own age or close to it. Not that Phil is _that _close to me in age but still. I want him to be my friend. And he's the only person I think I'd be able to tell about my mother, since the damage is kind of already done. I wonder if dad will give me my laptop back if I ask him.

"Amber?"

I'm so whirled up in my own thoughts that I don't realize that dad is trying to get my attention. He and Ana are now standing. I snap out of it and look up, probably looking very confused because both dad and Ana laugh.

"We're leaving." Dad announces. "We'll take Ana back to her car and then Taylor will take us home."

Really? Dad is going to let Ana drive her car back home to Seattle? I don't mention it though just rise from the table and walk out with them. Looking over at Phil one last time before walking out the door. He avoids my gaze.

…

_**Christian**_

It was hard work getting Anastasia to accept the brand new Saab I got delivered for her during the hours we spent together today and had parked beside her fucking horrible excuse of a car. I had to eventually promise her to ask Taylor to have a look and it to see if he could do something about it, and that she could consider the Saab a loan until then. As if Taylor, or anyone for that matter, will be able to turn that piece of shit into a decent and reasonably safe car. However Anastasia did, luckily, not seem to know very much about cars. She over-thanked me for the Saab though and actually drove away looking quite content with its multiple benefits. It's not just boys who like their toys.

"Dad?" Amber's voice interrupts me from my thoughts and I look over at her where she's sitting at the other side of the backseat.

"Yes, Amber?"

Jesus, my beautiful little girl looks so grown up with that new haircut. Hardly a little girl at all anymore. She looks nervous and I steel myself for whatever's about to come.

"Please don't be mad at me but I've been thinking…" Her voice trails off.

"About anything in particular or just in general?" I say in an idiotic attempt to lighten her new mood but she barely smiles.

"You see some kind of shrink, don't you?"

"I do" I confirm warily, unsure of where she's going with this.

I notice how Amber keeps throwing glances in Taylor's direction and I lean forward and mutter some things to him. Taylor takes up his ear buds from his pocket and puts them on, giving me a thumbs up to confirm when he's no longer able to hear us. I look back at Amber, who is playing with the hem of her dress.

"So, yeah…" She mumbles with a slight blush. "I was kind of wondering… I mean, just… If it would be ok if I like… saw him."

This was absolutely not what I expected and my shock puts me at a loss for words. Amber starts babbling.

"Never mind, I really don't have to, I just thought because I kind of feel like I have a lot of things I want to talk with someone about and I can't and I just…"

"Amber" I interrupt her because she looks to be on the verge of tears. She falls silent and her eyes are on everything in the car but me. "Look at me" I tell her and she does. There is something that looks like plea in her eyes. Pleading for me to drop it? Or for me to let her see Flynn? I take my daughter's hand and squeeze it, looking into her eyes.

"Of course you can see Dr. Flynn. You're very brave and very mature to ask me of it and I've been thinking about setting up an appointment for you myself."

The relief on her face is almost heartbreaking.

"Thanks dad." She says and moves closer to my end of the backseat, giving me one of her rare hugs. I put my arms around her and stroke her hair, and I'm reminded of the picture in my wallet. We remain like that for a few moments before I can't resist the urge to ask:

"You don't feel like you can talk to me?"

Amber stiffens but doesn't pull away.

"Not about everything." She answers honestly.

"I see." I'm silent for a moment, thinking and Amber leans away and looks up at me.

"Are you mad?" She asks.

"No" I assure her. "Of course not. I was just thinking that in addition to having private sessions with Flynn, we can see him together."

"Yeah…" Amber says slowly. "Ok"

"Family therapy." I smile a little and Amber cracks up in a smile too.

"A very small family." She states.

"But a family all the same."

"Yeah." Amber leans her head against my shoulder and I put my arm around her again. My daughter, my family. I have to admit I'm feeling quite proud.

…

**Again, sorry for the delay and THANK you to everyone who's been favouriting and reviewing. I have another chapter going and I'll hopefully publish that this week as well. Then my internet should have arrived so things will be smoother! PLEASE review because I love reading your thoughts. Thanks again. xxx**


	27. Chapter 27

_**Amber**_

"Amber?" I hear dad's voice from somewhere far, far away. I open my eyes and rub them as I stretch out. I look out of the car window and notice that we're on our street; Taylor is just turning into the parking house.

"I can't believe I always fall asleep" I mutter with a yawn.

"I can" Dad says with a twisted smirk. "You sleep badly at night, you've been through quite a lot of shit lately and on top of that you're still skinny as a whippet."

I squirm a little.

"I'm eating more now." I murmur.

"Yes!" Dad agrees quickly. "I'm very pleased; you just need to keep it up. I'll ask Claude if he can give you some tips on maybe adding energy drinks or something to your diet."

I can feel myself pouting. I don't really like the idea of yet another someone monitoring my food habits.

"Come on, let's get inside and then you can decide what you want to do for the rest of the evening." Dad says and opens the car door on his side. Taylor holds my door open for me and I slide out, thanking him as dad catches up with me and leads me to the elevator. In the apartment, as we enter the living area, a big giftwrapped box on the sofa table catches my eye. It's bright yellow with a big green bow on it, in real silk it looks like. Dad cocks his head in the direction of the box and smiles a little.

"Eye-catching, isn't it?" He says with amusement dancing in his eyes. "I think you should rip that very shrieking-colored paper and see what's inside."

"What, is it for me?" I frown, confused.

"Open it." Is all dad says and then he turns away and walks towards the kitchen. "I'll get you a drink."

"Ok, thanks." I say, the frown still on my face as I sit down on the couch and look at the big box. I start unwrapping it carefully, because I kind of don't want to rip the neon yellow paper. It's pretty cool actually. Inside I find a box with a lid, and I lift the lid to find… Oh my god. It's the newest Macbook Pro and beside it the iPhone 5 that's not even in the stores yet!

"Wow" I whisper.

"You like?" Dad is suddenly behind me and I fly up from the couch.

"Are they really for me?" I ask him as he puts two glasses of pineapple juice on the sofa table. I ask to make sure before I shriek like a little girl because I'm so excited.

"Yes." Dad answers calmly and I shriek like a little girl.

"Thank you!" I throw my arms around him and dad hugs me back.

"You're very welcome." He says and kisses my hair. "It's to make up for the overdue return of your phone and your laptop. All your contacts and applications are already in the phone and everything from your old laptop's hard drive has been transferred to this one."

"It's great" I say and sit down at the table. "So cool."

Dad looks very pleased with himself. He hands me one of the juice glasses and I drink, looking happily on my new technology stuff.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" Dad asks and I think about it. Or rather, I think about whether I should tell him what I really want to do or if I'll chicken out and say something else. I go out on a limb and choose the first option.

"Well, do you remember when I was sick a few weeks back?"

"Of course I remember." Dad snorts. "Why?"

"I just thought it was really nice when we just stayed in and watched movies." I shrug and dad looks weird for a moment.

"That was nice" He agrees. "I take it you want to have a movie night then?"

"Yeah" I mumble. "Like, together."

"Of course, that's a great idea." Dad says after a beat. "Let's do that."

Wow, easy. I would have thought he'd come up with an excuse not to do that. Don't know why I thought so but still.

"Do you want to order take-out?" Dad asks and stands up from the couch.

"Sure." I'm still super surprised.

"What kind?"

"Ehm… Chinese?" I say the first thing that comes to mind but as I say it I realize that I really am in the mood for veggie spring rolls and rice. Lots of rice.

Dad cracks up in a smile.

"I'll make the call." He says before raising his eyebrows. "Unless you want to do it from your new phone?"

…

After having ordered the Chinese food I decide to go and have my shower and get into my PJs before it arrives. It will just feel nicer to be completely comfy, even if my dress for the day is pretty cozy in itself. In the shower I'm careful not to touch at my butt, though it doesn't hurt as much anymore. Just a little bit when I sit really and only if I move around too much. I while I'm drying my hair, because dad will be at me if I leave it damp, I decide that I'll have a look at my backside to check it out. It can't be that bad if I'm barely hurting anymore. When my hair is dry I lift my bathrobe and turn my head so I can look in the mirror covering the wall over the bathtub and I almost choke. Whoa! How the hell can that be? My whole bottom is a greyish purple and the bruising crawls down onto my upper thighs as well. I feel some stupid tears running down my cheeks. I should not be crying, I've had enough of that for a lifetime in the past weeks. I let go of the robe as if it was a poisonous snake and it falls down, covering me again. I want to pretend I didn't see that, I don't know why it makes me feel bad but it does. For some reason it makes my bottom hurt again too and I suddenly feel very reluctant to sitting for the duration of a whole movie, even if it will be on a couch. I go into my closet and put on the longest nightgown I can find, a loose soft cotton one that goes down to my ankles. I put my dressing robe__on as well and go back out to my room after dropping the bathrobe in the wash basket. I jump a little when I see dad in the room, sitting on my bed.

"I knocked but you didn't hear" He says.

I notice that he's holding the camera and my breath hitches. It feels totally different now that I know what dad is actually seeing when he takes the stupid photos.

"I thought you might want picture time over with so you can relax and enjoy yourself after." Dad waves the camera slightly with an apologetic smile.

"Do you have to?" My voice is barely audible but dad hears anyway.

"You know I do." He frowns. "I understand that it's difficult and embarrassing but someone needs to take these pictures, Amber. Do you want me to ask Mrs. Jones instead? I think she's back."

"I can't" I try inhaling deeply but it just doesn't happen. "I just… Can't"

Dad rises from the bed and walks up to me, leaving the camera behind.

"Come and sit down." He says, leading me to the bed. "Breathe."

It's easier said than done but I squeeze my special pillow that's still in my bed and it gets better after a few minutes.

"Now tell me" Dad commands when my breathing is under control. "You managed so well these past few nights, what changed?"

I look down at my toes.

"Amber?" Dad's voice is soft.

"I looked in the mirror." I mumble and I can tell that I'm blushing.

"Oh." Dad actually squirms a bit beside me. "It will fade soon, it's nothing dangerous. It just looks very bad and I imagine it still hurts somewhat but you'll heal just fine."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"Because I know about bruises, I've been around long enough." Dad says simply. "The bastard should not have bruised you in the first place but he has not caused you any permanent physical damage."

"Just mental then." I mutter and wipe a stupid tear with my sleeve.

Dad sighs.

"Don't let it get to you." He tells me. "It's not worth it, that scum of the earth is not worth it. We'll get through this shit, he'll plead guilty and we'll make sure you never see the prick ever again."

I curl my legs up and throw my arms around them, peeking up at dad.

"You swear a lot lately." I comment and dad snorts.

"Yeah." He says. "I guess I should watch that a bit more around you."

Dad cups my chin with his hand and looks me in the eye.

"I mean it though" He growls and it sounds like a warning. "I don't want you to let this whole affair affect you anymore than necessary. I'll help you anyway I can and do whatever it takes for you to let it go. Ok?"

I blink and nod. Dad looks into my eyes for another moment, then nods curtly himself and lets go of my chin.

"So" He clears his throat. "About the pictures. We could figure out how to work the delay function. Then you could take them yourself, you just need to make sure that the camera actually gets the shot. But now that you've seen the damage already you may be ok with that?"

The damage, oh god! I nod again and dad examines the camera for a moment before handing it over to me and explaining how it works. He tells me to set it up on my desk and then quickly position myself a few yards away. Because he's such a control freak he puts a post-it from my desk on the floor where I need to be. Then he leaves and I'm relieved. Knowing that he'll probably check afterwards that I did as I was told I can't really get away from taking the stupid picture of my ass so I do it as quickly as I can and check it. The picture looks horrible, meaning very accurate. You can see every nuance of the ugly bruises. Must have been a very expensive camera and I briefly wonder just how mad dad would be if I 'accidentally' dropped it… I don't really want to think about how mad he would be. Besides, he'd only be angry about the pictures on it disappearing; he's too rich to be bothered about the waste of money. I walk out of my room and off to the kitchen area, where dad is leaning against the breakfast bar reading e-mails on his Blackberry. He snaps it shut as soon as I get to him. I hand over the camera without a word and dad puts it on the kitchen counter.

"Aren't you going to check it?" I mutter and dad shakes his head.

"No, I trust you."

Wow. Dad picks up the bag of Chinese food that's already on the breakfast bar and puts his arm around me, leading me to the TV room. The television is set up and is displaying the vast selection of films that Netflix has to offer. Dad makes me sit down on the couch as he gets the food out on the table.

"Choose something to watch" He commands me as he scoops up rice on one of the plates that miraculously (Mrs. Jones) are already in here. I do as he says and start browsing with the remote.

"Can we watch Vampire Diaries?" I ask as the series catches my eye. I started watching a few episodes when the show started running but fell behind after a while because my taido practice changed timetable. But the two first seasons are on here so now I can catch up it seems.

"What is that?" Dad asks with a frown as he hands me a plate of vegetable spring rolls and rice.

"A TV show about like, vampires and their existential dilemmas." I say fleetingly. "We don't have to watch it."

"Is it the one where the vampires have orgies all the time?" Dad asks, his frown deeper now.

"No, that's True Blood." I explain.

"Have you seen that one?" Dad narrows his eyes at me.

"No" I say quickly and dad relaxes. "Vampire diaries is completely mainstream and the demographic is totally my age."

"Doesn't necessarily mean much these days from what I hear." Dad mutters and starts filling his own plate. "Put the Vampire chronicles on, I promised we'd watch whatever you wanted."

"Vampire diaries" I correct him and press play on the remote. "And thanks, we can change if it's boring."

It's not very boring however and even dad looks completely wrapped when we get to episode three. I'm starting to drowse off again though and that's annoying. But I don't really care all that much anymore, it just feels nice to snuggle up against the cushions and wrap the fluffy blanket tighter around me so that's what I do.

"_Amber!"_

_I'm hiding under a bed in a room I haven't seen before, I'm making myself littler. My foot hurts but I have to fix that later. Now is not a good time for fixing foots._

"_Amber, get out from under there right now."_

_Oh no! Daddy found me. I feel like I'm crying on the inside but I'm not on the outside. I don't want to get out. I look at daddy's shiny shoes, they're like mirrors. Then I can't see them because daddy's on his knees and then his face is there. I make myself a little bit even more littler. My arm hurts when daddy takes it and pulls me out. He lifts me and puts me on the bed and holds my foot high so I lie down on my back. Blood is running and daddy's mad. I'm scared._

"_Have you been doing circus tricks in the apartment again, little lady?" Daddy is pulling glass from my foot and I try to get away but daddy holds my foot hard. It hurts. "Answer me, Amber." Daddy's mouth is just a line, like when grandpa draws people. But daddy's mouth is not happy, grandpa always makes happy mouths._

_I shake my head because I wasn't practicing my circus acts, I just stumbled a little and the vase fell. Daddy doesn't believe me. _

"_Tell me what happened." He talks angry._

"_I tripped." I talk sad. If daddy doesn't believe me he's going to be super mad and hit me because I'm not allowed to play circus and broken glass is dangerous._

"_Why didn't you call for me or Mrs. Jones when it happened? You know better than to step in the glass when something breaks." Daddy is mad but less mad now. I'm less sad. Daddy holds his hand around my foot and the glass is gone. It hurts less._

"_I wanted to save the flowers." I say because it's true._

"_You what?" Daddy doesn't understand._

"_Flowers have lives too; they can die if they don't have water." I explain._

_Daddy looks at me strange and then he lifts me with his other arm so he doesn't let go of my bloody foot. His hand has blood now and daddy points to the floor with his head. _

"_Do you see that?" He says. "Blood tracks from the living room to here, that's how I found you. I was worried you really hurt yourself Amber, do you understand?"_

_When big people ask if I understand it's almost always when I've done something bad and they want me to know why I have to stand in the corner or go to bed straight after dinner. So I think that means daddy is going to hit me now. But he doesn't, he carries me to the bathroom in my room and gets the Band-Aids with Mickey Mouse for my foot. He puts on two in a cross but before that he takes away the blood with a towel._

"_Ok, you lost a bit of blood so you should stay in bed for the rest of the evening." Daddy says and carries me again. "Mrs. Jones will bring you some dinner and I'll come in and check on you before your bedtime."_

_Daddy's not mad anymore! I got away. But it was only because I broke the vase by accident; I have to be super careful. I never want daddy to be mad at me._

…

**SORRY again for the lack of updates. Good news though; now I have internet! And I also have almost the entire next chapter done. THANK you as always for your ever amazing reviews, PMs, follows and favourites. I hope you'll like this chapter even if it might seem a little eventless and like a "filler chapter" but anyway, let me know you're still out there! xx**


	28. Chapter 28

_**Christian**_

A couple of days pass by; I've decided to give Amber a week of vacation before I get some tutors to the Escala. Not much more happens on the Leila front, I've set my mind not to meet with her or contact her in any way. Flynn is taking good care of her, and he's soon to take care of my daughter as well. She has a meeting scheduled with him on Friday. God, I hope by then the whole deal with Fitzgerald will be over as the settlement is scheduled for tomorrow. I've been pouring out money to have it sorted as soon as possible. But I suppose with all the kink shit they found in his apartment it won't be much of a trouble. I'm not so sure of how I feel about that. And I don't want to fucking find out, even though I suspect Flynn will drag it out of me one way or another. Expensive charlatan knows his stuff.

"Hi dad." Amber hops onto one of the bar stools on Wednesday morning.

I've been up for hours since it's already ten o'clock but I've let Amber sleep for as long as she likes since she could definitely use it. It's pretty damn spectacular to see her more well-rested and healthy every day.

"Hi Amber." I glance up from my laptop. "I'll be with you in a moment, just got to send this e-mail."

I literally only have to press send since I've already typed the e-mail to our marketing chief. I snap the laptop shut and look over at Amber.

"Some breakfast?" I ask her and stand up.

"Mm, yes please." Amber says with a little yawn. "Where's Mrs. Jones?"

"Grocery shopping." I tell her and open the fridge to get out the milk and the pineapple juice that my kid loves so much. "I told her not to wait for you to wake up, I'll prepare you something. What would you like?"

"I _can _make my own breakfast" Amber mutters and makes a move to rise from her chair.

"Sit down" I growl at her. "I too happen to be perfectly capable of fixing my daughter some breakfast. Ok?"

"Ok" Amber sighs but smiles a little.

I open the fridge again.

"So what would you like?" I ask once more.

"Some toast with jam I think." Amber answers fleetingly and I turn around to raise my eyebrows at her. She never has toast for breakfast.

"Well" She mumbles, squirming. "You don't cook, you say so yourself."

"Fair point well made" I smile as I take out the strawberry jam and butter and open the bread bin. "Wholegrain ok?"

"Yeah, great."

As the bread is toasting I pour Amber a glass of pineapple juice. I put the coffee machine on and both of us are just comfortably silent for a moment before the toast jumps up.

"Thanks" Amber says as I put the plate in front of her. She takes a bite of one of her two slices and proceeds to eating with good appetite. I'm pleased to say the least. She's still too fucking skinny. On impulse I lean forward to kiss her head before I go and get my coffee.

"So, Fitzgerald is pleading guilty." I tell Amber and she drops her toast on the plate in surprise.

"Oh" Is all she says and a frown spreads across her forehead.

"The lawyers are meeting tomorrow for the settlement." I continue and regard my daughter carefully.

"That's good." She says hesitantly, and it's almost as if her words are a question.

"In approximately 30 hours this will be over and done with." I conclude and sip my coffee as my Blackberry buzzes. Reply to the one I sent earlier. I quickly respond back and then look up at Amber to see that she's gazing out through the glass wall on a currently rainy Seattle rather than eating her toast.

"Finish your breakfast" I tell her and she looks over at me.

"I'm not really hungry anymore." She mumbles and I feel my frown, not quite getting the problem even if I understand that it must be something to do with Fitzgerald.

"Ok, Amber. I'm lost here." I say, leaning across the table to look her in the eye. "What's going on? I thought you'd be happy about this news."

"I am but…" Amber responds fleetingly and then sighs. "I'm just like, worried that he'll come after me or something."

"He'll go to prison, so he won't" I assure her.

"But not for long." Amber mumbles. "What about after?"

"I won't let it happen." I say with confidence because I fucking won't. "He'll never come anywhere near you again, Amber."

"Really?"

The almost childishly hopeful look in Amber's eyes makes me cringe somewhat and I get out of my chair and walk around the table again, hugging Amber to me. I don't know what's gotten into me lately, all these hugs.

"I promise you." I tell her and kiss her head before I release her. "Eat your breakfast."

"Ok" Amber almost smiles as she gets back to her toast and I do smile as I get back to my coffee.

…

When I get back late in the afternoon after a meeting with Anastasia (Elliott's party is already getting on my fucking nerves) I hear the sound of a piano playing. It's some piece that I don't know, but it sounds pretty good. Streaming, easy-flowing notes that are quite well-played as well. I enter the living area and shake my head at my being surprised. Who else but Amber would it have been?

"Hey" I say and she jumps somewhat and takes her hands of the grand piano.

"Hi, dad." She says sheepishly and looks away.

I sit next to her on the broad piano stool.

"I didn't know you could play the piano." I tell her.

"Sorry." She mutters.

"Why?" I frown and she glances up at me.

"You wouldn't let me near it when I was little."

I snort and smirk a little.

"I wouldn't let you climb it and play Lion King." I correct her. "If I knew you wanted to play on the actual keys that would have been a different thing."

"Oh" Amber looks over at her sheet music.

I feel an irritating pinch of guilt. I never asked her if she wanted to play the piano, I could have taught her when she was younger.

"How did you learn?" I ask and Amber shrugs.

"Just kind of started." She says fleetingly. "I read music so I just figured out where the keys were and practiced. At grandma's and grandpa's."

"But you haven't had lessons?"

"No"

I smile at her, starting to feel quite proud.

"You've done very well." I say. "What you were playing right there sounded quite good, what was it?"

"It's from Pride and Prejudice. This piece is called Dawn."

"Right." I look at her. "Would you like to have lessons?"

"Can I?"

"Yes."

"Then yeah." Amber's face bursts into a smile and I kiss her hair.

"Done." I say. "I'll find you a good tutor."

"Thanks dad"

"Mind you" I say as I rise from the piano stool. "That doesn't mean you can slack on the violin; you have serious talent and I won't let you waste it."

"Ok." Amber squirms. She doesn't take compliments well.

I lean over and plant another kiss on my daughter's temple.

"I'll tell Mrs. Jones to get started on dinner." I tell her. "Keep playing, it was beautiful."

Amber's smile warms me as she turns back and starts playing again.

…

_**Amber**_

The second I entered Flynn's office I started wondering why the hell I wanted to do this in the first place. I don't want to talk about my inner issues with some dude I don't know who makes money on other people's problems! Flynn seems all right and everything but it feels weird. He started out congratulating me about Mr. Fitzgerald getting four years of prison at the settlement and to it all being over. But as much as I wanted someone to talk to about all that before, I was completely put off when in the situation. Flynn got the message and said to just sit down for a while and have a chat whenever I felt ready. He made tea. British people are pretty cool. However, half the session pass without either of us uttering a word.

"Like I said before" Dr. Flynn says eventually. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Amber. Your father has given me a very positive image of you."

"Really?" I'm can't hide how surprised I am to hear that and Flynn raises an eyebrow.

"Does that surprise you?" He asks me. Not judgingly, just curiously.

I think a little about it before I respond. Does it surprise me that dad has said good things about me?

"Yeah, it kind of does." I finally reply.

"Why is that you think?"

I just shrug; I don't really have a good answer for that. I realize Flynn got what he wanted, he has me talking.

"Do you not think that your father is proud of you?" Flynn keeps going.

"I don't know." I answer honestly. "I guess I kind of always felt that I was in his way."

Flynn leans back in his armchair and smiles a little at me.

"Because he had you so young?"

"Maybe."

"I know you lived with your grandparents for the most part until recently. Have you ever felt rejected by Christian?"

I nod slowly, even though I feel as if I'm telling him something that's not his business.

"I always thought he didn't want me." I say. "He says that's not true and I guess I believe him but I just…"

"You just don't feel it." Flynn completes the sentence for me and I confirm that's he's right by shaking my head. "Amber, can you give me an example of when you feel unwanted by your dad?"

I think for a few moments.

"When we're fighting and he offers to work out a solution to make it work for me to live with my grandmother again." I say. "It's like he doesn't want to deal with me when I'm, like, difficult or whatever."

"Have you tried discussing these feelings with your dad?"

"I don't want him to be mad at me." I whisper. "He promised already that he wouldn't send me away or something so I'm scared he'll just be angry because we already talked about it."

"Are you afraid to make your father angry?" Flynn asks with a curious look in his eyes.

"Yes" I say without hesitation.

"And why do you think that is?"

Now I hesitate. Flynn tries to help me:

"Do you know when you started being afraid of your dad getting angry with you?"

"Yeah." I reply because I do.

"Was there anything in particular that happened around that time?" Flynn asks.

I blush a little.

"Everything I tell you is confidential right?" I ask.

"It is unless you don't want it to be." Flynn says reassuringly.

"Dad spanked me once when I was little and that's when I started being afraid of making him angry."

"I see" Flynn doesn't change his facial expression one bit but just remains neutral. "Do you remember why your father disciplined you that way?"

I feel myself blushing a little.

"I was tightrope walking on the railings of his balcony even though I wasn't allowed out there on my own."

Flynn raises an eyebrow, looking amused and impressed even.

"Really?" He smiles. "How old were you?"

"Like five. I went to a circus day camp during that summer."

"That must have been quite a terrifying experience for the both of you."

"I guess." I murmur.

"What happened afterwards?"

I squirm, not really wanting to talk about this.

"Nothing really" I shrug and Flynn raises that eyebrow again.

"Tell me anyway." He prompts.

I sigh and try to remember the details of that day.

"I cried. I was scared."

"Why were you scared?"

"I guess I figured out that I could have died if dad hadn't caught me. And I was scared of dad, that he'd… like, hit me again and stuff. And like I said, I didn't want him to be mad at me."

Flynn leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Then what?"

"When dad let go of me I ran and hid under my bed. I cried like a baby and I remember I wanted my grandpa." I sigh at the memory. "I saw dad's feet and he sat down on the bed for like a long time but I kept crying. Then his feet moved and he walked around the room, he was packing my bag. Then he pulled me out from under the bed and said I was going home."

I pause because I think I see something flinch in Flynn's face. I make a mental note of it and conclude my little story:

"So he drove me back to my grandparents."

I think that will be the end of this story but Flynn seems to think it's just the beginning because he gets an interested glint in his eyes.

"Was the original plan for you to go back to your grandparents that day?" He asks.

"Um, no." I frown. "It was like a day early."

"So how did that make you feel?"

How did that make me feel? Unwanted, rejected. I don't need to tell him that, he can figure it out for himself.

"Just glad to get my way" is my response. "I wanted to go home"

I look away but I feel Flynn still staring at me.

"I think maybe we are done for today, Amber." He says after a while. "I'll speak to your father about rescheduling if that's all right with you?"

I'm not sure. I don't say anything as I rise from my sofa and Flynn lets out a laugh on his way to open the door for me.

"Amber" he tells me as his hand is on the doorknob. "I understand that it's hard for you to open up to someone you don't know but I believe we have already made some progress and I think I'll be able to help you."

"You don't even know what I want help with, I didn't tell you." The words are out before I can stop them and I hear I sound like a bitch. "Sorry" I mumble.

"Don't worry about it" Flynn keeps the smile on his face. "But I've been in this trade for a long time, I may notice some things you don't. And I mean that in the least creepy way possible."

I snort with laughter, I was just thinking about how creepy that sounded. I get serious however when I ask:

"Are you going to tell my dad that I wasted like half the session by just not saying anything?"

"It was not a waste." Flynn responds immediately. "And like I told you before, everything is confidential if that's your wish."

"Ok" I feel calmer. Flynn guy seems trustworthy. "Well, thanks. I guess I'll see you then."

"You will." Flynn smiles again and shakes my hand. "Take care of yourself, Amber."

"Sure"

He opens the door; dad is already waiting outside.

"See you Monday, Christian?" Flynn is confirming their scheduled appointment.

"Monday." Dad nods curtly and throws a glance my direction before turning back to Flynn. "How did she do?"

"Splendidly, but that's none of your business." Flynn sounds almost scolding and dad rolls his eyes. "You both have a good weekend."

With that, Flynn winks at me and closes the door behind him. Dad turns to me.

"Are you all right?" He asks and I nod, hoping he won't ask me anything else about my session with Dr. Flynn. He doesn't, just puts a hand on my shoulder and leads me towards the elevator in the building. In the elevator I come to think of something.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Amber?" Dad snaps shut his Blackberry after checking a message and looks at me.

"Dr. Flynn, does he have a family?" I look at dad's tie as he loosens it somewhat.

"Yes, he's married with three boys." Dad's voice is wary. "Why do you ask?"

"Is he the one living in grandma's and grandpa's house?" My question hangs in the air for a couple of seconds.

"Did he tell you that?" Dad asks me.

"Well if he did, I wouldn't be asking you now." I mutter and expect dad to snap at me but if he's annoyed by my tone, he doesn't show it.

"I suppose you wouldn't." Dad agrees. "He is as a matter of fact. How did you come to think that?"

I shrug as we exit the building to find Taylor waiting by the car outside.

"Dr. Flynn seemed a bit uneasy when I talked about grandma's and grandpa's." I say quietly.

To my surprise, dad bursts out laughing as he holds the car door open for me.

"He'll love that." He says. "Beaten at his own game."

I roll my eyes as I climb into the car and dad comes in after me, dragging the door shut as I fasten my seatbelt. Dad opens his phone again and a smile starts dancing on his face as he reads whatever it is that can't very well be a business e-mail. Suddenly, dad snaps the phone shut and turns his smile to me:

"Dinner, Amber?"

…

**Sorry about the late update! I'll try to do better. I've loved reading your amazing reviews in the meantime and I look forward to hearing more about what you think! This chapter was a bit weird and fluffy and not very well-written but I felt I'd just publish it in order to not get stuck. This way I can write the next one faster! Hope you liked it anyway, please let me know. THANK YOU FOR READING! xx**


	29. Chapter 29

_**Christian**_

_I'm mentally counting the seconds until this excruciatingly dull conversation with the head of a newly purchased company. He keeps repeating himself in the least innovative way and does not seem to have any appreciation for the fact that Christian Grey, owner and CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings, may have something better to do on a Saturday afternoon. Though a Saturday as boiling hot as this one there is not much one can do apart staying inside with the doors open and the AC on full speed. It's certainly a challenge to have to stay indoors with one particular little girl. Normally either Sandrine or Mrs. Jones or on occasion even myself take her to the park but this weekend Mrs. Jones is away while Sandrine has complained about migraine and opted to stay in her own apartment. It's unbelievable how much that girl is costing me to keep. Amber has been restless since I picked her up yesterday evening, barely able to sit still for five seconds even. Getting her to go to bed was a fucking nightmare. And today she's been asking me a million times if she can go outside and my answer has been the same every time; no. She's been dangerously close to the wide open balcony door a couple of times but she knows she's not allowed to go outside on her own. I made sure to remind her a couple of times as well. Just moments before I went on my business call, I sent Amber to her room since she broke yet another piece of art while practicing her crazy circus acts. I'm not even sure what it was she was doing this time, perhaps she just wanted someone's attention. I do know I'm not the best at giving her mine but she gets what she needs from my parents. Having her spend some weekends and holidays with me is merely to give them a break. Though I do wish I found it a bit easier to spend time with my daughter. I just don't know how to talk to her unless I'm explaining something or reprimanding her. And she doesn't seem to particularly want to talk to me either._

"_So, in answer to your question Mr. Carpenter" I begin, meaning to conclude our conversation, when I see something that nearly makes me fucking choke. My glancing out through the glass wall was a mere coincidence and what I see causes my otherwise unfeeling heart to stop. My five-year-old tiny little girl is fucking tightrope walking on the railings of the penthouse balcony! I drop the phone, oblivious to what the idiot at the other end might think and I practically leap towards the opening._

"_Amber!" I shout when I see her wiggle. I don't know what stupid impulse came over me to scream at her because it scares her, causing her to slip on her step and…_

_I'm by the railing in one long jump, catching Amber in the fall. Both her feet were off the railing; one millisecond later and she would have been on the street now. Dead. My heart is pounding and I'm breathing heavily as I clutch the minimal body to my chest. Amber is trembling and so am I. I keep holding her for what seems like ages until I get my cool back and fury starts to kick in. I hold Amber away from me by her arms and shake her._

_"What the hell where you thinking?" I shout at her; I cannot remember ever having been this mad at her._

_"Sorry" Amber almost sounds like she's choking but I don't give a fuck at the moment._

_I roughly put her on my hip and start walking across the balcony to take my disobedient child inside to deal with. She knew she wasn't allowed out on the balcony and she's a clever little one, she could have figured out that nobody would ever let her play around on the fucking railings. The thought that I could have lost her forever is no longer choking me, but I'm filled with a determination. I need to make damn sure this never happens again, that it doesn't cross Amber's mind to do anything like it ever. And that fucking circus camp is going to be shut down within a day. I walk inside, slamming the glass door shut out of habit and because I'm pissed. I think vaguely about the risk of my strength shattering it but I don't really give a fuck right now. It would have been quite satisfactory to be honest. Once inside I sit down on the couch, placing Amber stomach down over my knee straight away. A position she's never been in before; I've given her one or two swats on a few occasions but never a real spanking. She's getting one now however, and it won't be one she soon forgets. I place my hand on Amber's back as she tries to get off my lap and I bend my upper body down to look her in the eye._

"_Amber." I say calmly. "Stop fighting me or this will be much more difficult than it needs to be."_

_Something I can't make out what it is flickers through Amber's eyes but she doesn't say anything and she keeps trying to wriggle off me. With a sigh, I swat her backside sharply and she gasps as tears fill her eyes. She stills however, and turns her head so she's looking down on the sofa. I lean down again and make her look at me._

"_Amber" I say again before continuing: "What did I tell you before about going out on the balcony?"_

_She doesn't answer and I give the shoulder I'm holding a little shake._

"_I couldn't go out there." She mumbles._

"_That's right." I hear that I'm nearly growling. "So why did you?"_

"_I don't know" Amber's voice is so quiet that I can barely hear her. _

_I raise my voice so I'm sure she can hear me:_

"_Not good enough, Amber" I tell her sternly. "What you did was extremely dangerous and on top of that you directly disobeyed me. I'm going to spank you now to make sure you never do anything like it again. Do you understand?"_

_I see that she's nodding her head._

_"Answer me properly." I say._

"_Yes" Still quiet but it will do for now. _

"_We'll go with ten" I mutter, more to myself than to her. _

_I flip up my daughter's yellow sundress and peel down her polka-dot panties to the top of her thighs. I need to see that I don't overdo it; I have never spanked a child before. I take a quick breath before bringing my hand down. Amber's pathetic little whimper almost makes me want to stop but then I think of the sight of her on the railings and fury makes me toughen up. I make sure each and every of the ten swats are felt and Amber takes her punishment quite well, lying still and just trembling slightly. Once I'm done have reclothed Amber's now quite red bottom I have her stand before me. She wipes her tears with the back of her hand but in vain; they keep coming. I feel a slight pinch of guilt which I repress straight away. My kid needed discipline and spanking her was for her own good._

"_Do you understand why I spanked you?"_

"_Because I went out on the balcony when you said I couldn't" Amber sniffles, she's still shaking somewhat. I grab onto her shoulder as if to still her._

"_That's right." I confirm__ before burrowing my eyes into hers. "Do you understand why I said you couldn't?"_

_Amber bites down on her lip before mumbling:_

"_It's dangerous."_

"_That's right" I said through clenched teeth. "And I can't believe you climbed up on those railings. You know what would have happened if I hadn't caught you? If you had fallen? Hm?"_

_Amber breaths heavily but doesn't answer._

"_You would have died." I say, hearing it may sound harsh but it's fucking true and my own words hit me like a punch in the chest. **My baby could have died**. "Do you get that, Amber? You would have gone to sleep and never woken up."_

_Tears are rolling freely down Amber's flushed cheeks. I reach into my pocket for a handkerchief and start wiping them, Amber's shoulder still in a tight grasp. _

"_There" I tell her. "It's over and done with now, clean slate. But don't ever do anything like it again, you hear me?"_

_Amber nods and I just can't be bothered to tell her again to answer properly. Her eyes are wide as they gaze into mine. I think she got my message. I can feel her squirming under my grip._

"_Go to your room." I sigh. "Don't even think about going outside again; I'll know if you do."_

_I let go of Amber and she shoots off in the direction of her room while I rise. I'll have Taylor monitor the balcony from his office straight away._

…

_About an hour later, after I've got some more work done, I decide I might check on my daughter. I enter her room after a brief knock and find that she's nowhere to be seen. Then I hear the muffled sobs from under her bed. Jesus fucking Christ, has she been crying all this time?_

"_Grandpa" I hear her snivel and I suddenly have a huge headache._

_I walk over to sit down on Amber's bed, burying my face in my hands. Shit, I can't do anything right with this kid. She'll always prefer her grandparents to me. They are what she needs, not me. I sit feeling sorry for myself for a little while before I pull myself together. Fuck, Grey, you knew this already. That's why you have them raise her. I'm fine with being the disciplinarian when I need to be, as long as it means Amber stays out of fucking danger. She doesn't have to like me, my job is to keep her safe and cared for and that's what I'm doing. Never mind that she's cared for by others than me. Determined, I pack the small amount of things she brings back and forth between here and my parents' into her backpack. I put it on the bed and lean down in front of it._

"_Hey you." I say to my daughter. "Can you come out from under there?"_

_Amber shakes her head and clutches the pillow she always sleeps with and cuddles when she feels the need. I reach in and take her arm and slide her out with ease._

_"I'll take you_ _back to your grandparents'" I tell her. "Would you like that?"_

_She looks at me with glossy eyes and then nods slowly, giving me a guarded look. I let out a little sigh, realizing I might have held some idiotic hope in me that she'd want to stay. But why the fuck would she when she's in need of comfort? I can't give her that. I stand up and lift Amber from the floor, carrying her out while picking up her backpack on the way. Since I'm no comfort for her I'll need to bring her to the people who are._

_... _


	30. Chapter 30

_**Christian**_

Fuck, I hate it when Flynn manipulates me onto a sharing spree. And now he's sitting there, his smug face filled with satisfaction that he got me to reveal some more of my dirt.

"Let me ask you something, Christian" Flynn says and leans back in his chair. "Given the choice to go back and relieve that day, would you have done anything differently?"

I feel myself glaring at him but I am actually giving his question some serious thought. Would I have changed anything?

"No" I answer finally, but my voice is firm. "Amber needed to be disciplined for what she did and for such a small child a spanking made sense. It got her attention and prevented her from repeating the same offense. Well, for a while"

I roll my eyes thinking about the day of my father's funeral.

"I wasn't referring to the punishment you gave Amber" Flynn says calmly. "While I do think that based on what you told me, what got through to her was the talk rather than the spanking, I understand the frustration you must have felt. And your need, or willing, to make an impact so to speak."

I let out a snort but Flynn just keeps gazing at me. Eventually I sigh.

"What did you mean then?" I ask him and I see the smile dance on his face.

"I think you can figure it out, Christian."

I fucking hate that but I know he won't let me get away with it. I try to think of that day in August from a psychiatrist's point of view. What does he want me to think that I would have done differently?

"Let me put it like this" Flynn finally ha mercy on me when I've been sitting in silence for almost two minutes. I've been keeping my eye on my watch. "How did you think Amber felt after you spanked her?"

"Hopefully embarrassed and regretful" I snap back. "Or there wouldn't have been much point"

"You told me she was sad"

"Well, of course she was fucking sad!" I'm so frustrated that I rise from my chair, walking around the room. "She was five years old, she had nearly fallen from the fucking balcony and she had a stinging behind."

Flynn is quiet for a moment, allowing me to calm down and slump back into my chair. I just don't know where he's getting with this.

"Did you do anything to comfort her?" He asks after a while and I frown.

"She wouldn't have accepted it from me." I mutter. "Our relationship wasn't like that."

"Said who?" Flynn keeps provoking me. "She? I've known you for a while, Christian. You wouldn't have left that decision to a child."

I don't say anything.

"Upon seeing Amber upset and crying, did you not want to make her feel better?"

"Sure." I shrug. "But I was never good at that stuff, I would have screwed up even worse. I wasn't what she needed, my parents were much better for a little kid. And she wanted to go back to them"

Flynn sighs lightly.

"Did you hug her?" He asks me and I just raise my eyebrows. He goes on:

"Did you tell her that you loved her?"

I keep glaring at him but eventually I realize that this is a staring contest I won't actually be able to win.

"No, I didn't" I mutter reluctantly.

Flynn gazes at me for a few moments before he speaks again:

"So, let's see if I got this straight. Amber nearly fell from the balcony, she was scared and shocked." Flynn is speaking as if he's making a fucking list. "You were angry with her and you punished her by smacking her; causing her actual physical pain. She was sad and crying and you did nothing to reassure her that you still cared for her, but you left her alone in her room and then sent her away."

"What the fuck are you getting at, Flynn?" I snap and rise once more. "I don't pay you to judge me."

"I'm not judging you, Christian." Flynn tells me calmly, crossing one leg over the other and revealing canary yellow silk socks as his pants slide up. "I'm simply giving you the perspective from the five-year-old child that was your daughter. Sit back down, please"

Sighing, I oblige, feeling like a fucking child myself.

"So" Flynn continues. "How do you think Amber felt after you'd taken her back to her grandparents?"

I stare at him.

"She told me a while ago she was scared of me for some time after that." I admit. "She didn't want to stay with me. I never knew."

"You never guessed?"

"Not as such. I figured she had some new level of respect for me but I didn't think she feared me."

"I see." Flynn looks annoyingly fascinated.

"Look" I start, beginning to feel fucking annoyed. "I don't need you to tell me that I fucked up. I know what you want me to say, that I should have sat her on my lap after I punished her, cuddling her and telling her it was all fine, she was forgiven and blah blah blah. She was scared of my temper, that whenever I'd be mad at her for one reason or another I'd hurt her."

"Do you think she felt unwanted? Rejected by you?"

"Because I took her back to my parents when she was supposed to stay with me another day?" I raise an eyebrow. "Possibly. Though she shouldn't have, I thought I was doing what she wanted."

"What a child wants is not always what she needs." Flynn remarks. "And I know you know that, you wouldn't let Amber decide for herself when it came to moving in with you after your father's passing."

I say nothing for a moment before muttering:

"I didn't think I was what she needed, I told you. I'm still not sure I'm what she needs."

"She needs a parent." Flynn says simply. "She needs her father, and you need to understand that in many ways, emotionally, Amber is still that little child that needs to be reassured that she is safe and loved."

"She has always been safe and loved." I protest. "And I'm quite sure her grandparents were doing fine with the whole reassuring aspect."

"But you are her father, Christian. You have always been in her life and what she has longed for is to know that _you _care about her and love her."

"She knows." I raise my voice somewhat. "I've told her so, we've had these discussions."

"Fifteen years of feeling unsure about it is a long time" Flynn's eyes are piercing. "It will take time before she feels it and believes it. Time that you need to give."

"I thought your thing was to not tell me what to do but make me realize myself." I mutter, aware that I sound sulky.

"I'll make an exception." Flynn smiles somewhat. "You're too bullheaded."

"So how would you suggest I go about it?" I sigh.

"Just keep doing what you're already doing." Flynn rises, a sign that our session is soon to be over. "Take care of your daughter, listen to her and make sure she knows how important she is to you, even when you need to set boundaries."

I rise as well, with another sigh. As I shake Flynn's hand on my way out, he adds his final words of wisdom:

"Remember, a child not knowing where she belongs, not daring to trust that the people in her life love her for who she is. Does that sound familiar at all?"

Of course that sounds fucking familiar.

…

**I love you all for sticking with this story and leaving such sweet and awesome reviews! Very grateful for your opinions and I can understand that some of you may have felt that the last chapter was a bit repetitive of things we already knew. However, it was a lot for my own sake to have a clear idea of exactly what did happen as it was an important day for Christian's and Amber's relationship and something that has had quite deep effects on both of them. Anyway, hope you won't be bored! More action promised shortly and please do let me know what you think. Thank you so much!**


	31. Chapter 31

_**Amber**_

A month after my first meeting with Flynn, I've managed not to back. I've taken on tons of extracurricular activities outside my tutoring (which is pretty great actually) and I'm practicing the piano like crazy. Whenever I give that as an excuse, like say Miss Kate has given me a really difficult piece to learn, dad doesn't push it. I guess he thinks it's a good thing that I don't feel the need to go and see a shrink anymore. I don't really know why I don't want to go. Then again, I kind of didn't know why I wanted to go before in the first place. I guess I thought everything would be fixed but after my first session I just felt like crap. I sincerely freaking doubt that talking about stuff I don't want to reminisce about will make it go away; all the stupid sadness I can't ever shake. It's just always there and since I found out I have a psycho depressive mother who wants to kill her own baby I can't believe that I ever thought it was a good idea to go digging in myself. If I find something in me that I don't want to find there'll be no going back; I just know it.

I'm kind of surprised though that dad hasn't forced me to go; he's been unusually accommodating lately. It's like he feels guilty about something; maybe he does. He's been spending a lot of late evenings planning Kate and Elliot's party with Ana but then again, I could have come if I wanted to. Maybe he thinks I don't understand that the whole Ana thing is getting pretty serious and that dad is confused and out-freaking about it. I don't know but right now I don't care; I have plenty of my own stuff going on to keep my mind of everything else.

"Amber" Dad says one morning at the breakfast table.

"Mhm?" I half-respond without taking my eyes off my book. I'm reading about chiaro scuro techniques for the art class Sawyer takes me to every Saturday morning. It's awesome, the teachers are great and every week we have as homework to study a style and a technique and then apply it the following week and actually learn how to work that style. Epic.

"Since I'm assuming you are coming to the party tomorrow, I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping this afternoon?"

I look up.

"With you?" I hear the hesitation in my voice.

"No, with Sawyer." Dad says and I can't make out if he's joking. "Of course with me." He adds with a wry smile when I've been staring blankly for a few moments. I smile back, apologetically, while dad continues:

"After your lessons this morning I'll have Taylor pick you up and we can have lunch together before I go on an early weekend. Then tomorrow after your art class I'll probably have to be at the venue already to supervise the preparations but either Sawyer or Taylor can take you straight there and you can get ready with Miss Steele."

"Why do you call her Miss Steele?" I ask dad. "You're hardly formal with each other."

I think I almost see dad blush!

"Well" He mutters. "Nothing wrong in keeping a respectful tone while talking about her."

"Yeah, sure." I'm hesitant. "But dad, we ARE living in the 2010s though. You sound weird."

"I think that's enough sass from you right now" Dad says, but winks at me before he looks at his watch. "Eat up, I'll need to get going and your history tutor will be here any moment."

I sigh lightly. Mr Weightman is the only one of my private tutors that I don't like. History could be so interesting if only he spoke twice as fast and discovered the magic of intonation. I glance down at my toast; I've hardly eaten anything. My stomach has been weird lately, like I have a bug from being abroad or something. I really don't want to have to run to the bathroom constantly throughout the morning but since dad is watching me like a hawk I finish the rest of my breakfast as quickly as I can. Dad frowns at me as I jump out of my chair and gather my books and stuff.

"I would bet several companies that you've lost weight again, Amber" He says disapprovingly and now it's my turn to blush. "I just don't see how that could be, you're eating well. But we'll need to have your grandmother look at you."

I sigh.

"No pouting." Dad shrugs into his light grey suit jacket. "And I don't want you doing any more Taido until we know for sure that you're healthy, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah." I mutter. To be honest, that's not so much of a sacrifice. Since I started going back to practice I've just found it's not at all as fun as I remembered. I also kind of forgot I'm not really good at it. It took a lot of practice to keep up before and I just don't feel like it anymore, I just feel stupid.

Dad walks over to me and kisses my forehead.

"I'll see you later, Amber" He says. "I look forward to it."

"Yeah, me too." I respond and dad gives my shoulder a squeeze before he leaves.

I look at my phone to check the time and sigh deeply before making my way to the new study room to meet Mr. Weightman.

…

**I know it's super short and for that I sincerely apologise! I'm also very sorry for the lack of updating lately, a death in the family has made things a bit difficult. I'm back now though, writing about fictional characters' issues and difficulties in life makes it all easier to cope, ha! I'll try to get back to you with a new update by the end of next week, in the meantime please let me know you're still hanging in there ;) xx**


	32. Chapter 32

**Second update in like a hour, just to make you aware in case you missed the last one and jumped straight to this! Another shorty..**

_**Christian**_

After hardly seeing her this month (and not just because of my own being busy) I have almost forgotten how much I've come to enjoy spending time with my daughter. Not that I haven't not looked forward to seeing her on the weekends and holidays when she was living with my parents. I just always assumed she wasn't too happy about staying with me those times so I either sent her on different outings with the nanny or, as she grew to old for Sandrine, made sure she had everything she could possibly want when it came to movies, arts and crafts, books and what have you. I kept in the background telling myself that if she wanted me; she'd get me. But she was probably to _afraid _to. I can't shake that session with Flynn. Wisely, he's shut up about the episode since and not gone back to the subject. He probably figures I went and did something about it. But what am I supposed to do? If I suddenly start hugging Amber all the time and tell her I love her every five minutes after fifteen years of not doing so she'll think I'm fucking crazy. Not to mention that she won't believe me if it's forced, which it will be. I'll just have to make sure I show her I'm not going anywhere instead.

"Dad, what about this then?"

Amber reappears out of the dressing room in the deluxe rocker store where nothing costs less than a hundred dollars (Mia's recommendation, of course). My daughter is wearing a black dress that has a corset top and a wide skirt that comes down to her knees and seems to be put together by every kind of black fabric imaginable and layers of black lace peaking out underneath. Over the dress Amber is wearing a short leather jacket with three quarter length sleeves, with long fingerless lace gloved on her under arms. It's all completed by snow leopard patterned pantyhose and big calve-high Doc Martens boots, also in black. I gaze upon my daughter. She's beautiful, if only she weren't so fucking thin. I'm bringing her straight to my mother later, I've already made an appointment with her at the hospital.

"Take off the jacket." I tell Amber and she half does, dropping it down to her elbow. "You look great. But you're keeping the jacket on."

"But dad" Amber whines. "What if it gets really hot?"

"We'll get you a couple of light scarves too." I tell her and wave for the shop owner to come our direction. "I will not have you exposed to your uncle's pervert friends."

Amber giggles lightly at my remark but I'm quite serious.

"We'll take everything my daughter's wearing, and will you please gather every scarf or shrug that would match her outfit too." I tell Cadence, the emo manager who looks like she's hardly more than a couple of years older than Amber. She nods with a huge smile that looks very odd with the rest of her presentation and scoots off.

Amber goes in the fitting room again to change and comes out smiling.

"Thanks dad" She says sincerely.

"You're very welcome." I tell her and place a hand on her shoulder to guide her to the cash desk to wait for her clothes to be packaged. "But fun's not over yet. We're going to see your grandma."

Amber's face lights up only to drop just as soon.

"Oh." She says when she realizes that it won't be a social call but just an examination. My daughter is, in spite of her endless love and admiration for her grandmother, a firm hater of hospitals and doctor's appointments and everything that goes with my mother's trade.

"Cheer up" I tell Amber on our way out to the car. "I'm sure you'll get a lollypop when it's all done."

It warms me to see how my lame little joke makes her smile.

…


	33. Chapter 33

_**Amber**_

I hate going to see a doctor, even when the doctor happens to be my grandma. I guess it comes down to the same things as why I don't want to see Flynn anymore. I like solving problems but as soon as I realize I actually need to find them within myself it's not as fun. Also I really freaking hate needles.

"Amber, it's so lovely to see you." My grandmother says as she's hugging me.

"Yeah" I agree, even though it's only been to days since dad took us both out to a restaurant along with Ana.

"Mom" Dad says and kisses grandma's cheek. He never hugs anyone except for the few times he's sort of hugged me.

We all sit down in grandma's office, in her comfy chairs. But I don't feel anywhere near comfortable because I know I'll probably have to talk about embarrassing stuff. Grandma seems to pick up on how awkward I feel straight away because she says to dad:

"Christian, darling, maybe you should leave."

Dad raises an eyebrow looking shocked and offended.

"Excuse me?" He almost hisses but while I would have been either provoked or intimidated grandma just seems completely unaffected.

"I think it's better if I speak to Amber alone." She says lightly.

Dad sits still for a moment and I hold my breath. I really don't want him to make a fuss right now, it's been such a great afternoon so far.

"Fine" He mutters eventually and stands, glaring at grandma. "It's not a therapy session, I'm concerned for my daughter's health"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality still applies." Grandma says. "But it's up to Amber, you're welcome to stay if she wants you to."

Suddenly all eyes are on me and I sigh.

"Amber?" Dad says impatiently after a few moments.

"I kind of want you to go if that's ok." I mumble and glance up, trying to look apologetic to dad. He looks annoyed and a bit disappointed but he nods curtly and heads for the door. In the doorway he stops and looks at grandma. "You will perform tests for everything imaginable, won't you? I want to get to the bottom of this."

"I'll do everything I can think of." Grandma tells him calmly.

Dad looks over at me before he says:

"I'll wait for you outside, let me know if you need me."

"Thanks dad." I say and manage to smile. He smiles back briefly and leaves. I look back to where my grandmother is sitting.

"Ok Amber" She starts. "Your dad says you're losing weight without reason. Let's get to the bottom of that, shall we?"

…

_**Christian**_

I fucking hate worrying, it's not my thing at all. I try my best not to feel offended by Amber not wanting me in the room with her, but seriously, I cannot see why. I hope there's nothing seriously wrong with her because Jesus fucking Christ that girl's been through enough lately. After what obviously seems like an eternity even with my e-mails and business calls, my mother comes out to the corridor.

"Christian." She says. "I've examined Amber and we've run some of the tests but we've got to the most unpleasant ones so I could use your assistance."

"Of course." I practically fly out of my chair. "What can I do?"

"If you could just keep that little girl of yours calm so I can do some blood tests."

"I see" I follow her in, where Amber is sitting up on the examination bed, looking quite embarrassed. "Hey" I say to her.

"Hey" She mutters, looking embarrassed which makes me snicker. I sit down on the chair next to the bed.

My mother starts preparing a needle that does look quite big. Then she pushes back the sleeve of Amber's cardigan before she tightens a special ribbon around her thin upper arm. I notice Amber tensing when her grandmother lightly slaps at her arm to make the veins easier to make out. Amber has veins quite deep set and hardly visible at all; which have made nurses need to poke her with needles many times whenever she was giving blood tests as a child. That's probably part of why she hates it so much.

"Talk to each other." My grandmother commands.

"What do you want to do tonight?" I ask Amber since I can't really think of anything else to say.

"I don't know." She shrugs and seems to be focusing quite a lot on breathing in and out. "I have some stuff to prepare for my art class tomorrow."

"I see. Well maybe after we can order in and watch the Vampire Chronicles again or something."

"Vampire Diaries." Amber smiles a little. I did remember what the show was called but I wanted to make her smile. "That sounds good."

She twitches when my mother sticks her with the needle and grimaces from the pain. I take her hand and put my other one on the side of her head to keep it from turning on impulse.

"Don't look." I tell her. "It'll be over in a moment."

"Ok" Amber whispers and a tear actually runs down her cheek. "I'm such a fucking baby."

"Mind your language and no, you're not." I say. "It's normal and fine for you to think this unpleasant."

It actually takes time for my mother to fill all of her empty test tubes. Maybe I shouldn't have asked her to run every test imaginable. After a while it's done and Amber whimpers slightly when mom pulls out the needle. Involuntarily, I twitch myself. My mother wipes Amber's arm with a napkin and then puts a band-aid on.

"You did great, darling" She says and Amber and I glance at each other, not entirely sure who she's talking to.

"Amber, why don't you go and get something in the cafeteria while I talk to your dad?" My mom says and squeezes Amber's shoulder.

"Ok." Amber says with a quick glance my direction. I nod to encourage her and hand her a twenty-dollar bill from my pocket.

"Will you get me a coffee as well please?" I ask her.

"Sure. Grandma?"

"No thank you, dear. I'm fine."

"Ok."

Amber pulls down the sleeve of her cardigan over the band-aid and dashes off. I look at my mother, who cuts directly to the chase:

"It seems to me that Amber might be allergic to gluten." She tells me.

"What?" I frown. "How does that happen?"

"It just happens." My mother says. "Celiac decease is an autoimmune disorder and consumption of things such as wheat, barley and rye triggers it. When Amber described her symptoms it was the first thing that came to my mind."

"What symptoms?" I frown. "Amber didn't tell me she hadn't been feeling well. She said she didn't understand why she would be losing weight."

"Along with the weightloss she's been suffering from headaches, fatigue and feeling nauseous." My mother surprises me by saying. "And she told me after some convincing that she's had diarrhea for over a month."

"What do you know." I say and my voice is tight. I'm not happy with Amber for keeping this from me. Diarrhea and nausea for a fucking month?

"Don't be unreasonably angry with her now, Christian." Mom looks disapproving and I sigh before I rise from my armchair and walk around the hospital room. "Christian, do you hear me?"

"Yes." I mutter and mom comes over to me. She doesn't touch me but she stands close.

"Amber thought it would all go away and she didn't want to trouble you." She says. "If it is indeed gluten allergy that she's suffering from the lab will know from the stool sample she left and from the blood tests we'll probably find that her iron levels are low. She will need your support, because it won't be easy to suddenly change her whole diet. Bread, pasta, some cereals... Many things that Amber likes to eat will have to go."

I sigh once more and nod. But I'll still warn my daughter about keeping things like this from me in the future. Speaking of the devil, there is a knock on the door before Amber enters, holding a paper mug in one hand and a can of coke in the other. She looks from her grandmother to me.

"Here's your coffee, dad." She tells me. "I have the change in my pocket."

"Keep it." I say and take the coffee.

Amber looks a bit nervous and she glances at her grandmother.

"Did you tell him?"

"Yes, I did." My mother puts her arm around Amber's shoulder and I say:

"We'll get through it whatever it is. But I'm not happy that you kept information concerning your health from me, I would have taken you here sooner."

"Yeah, I'd have wanted that." Amber rolls her eyes.

"Careful" I warn her.

"Sorry."

I notice that Amber looks quite tired, worn somehow. I reach out and stroke her hair as I look to my mother.

"What should we do while waiting for the results? Get her off gluten?"

"No" My mom shakes her head. "If the tests indicate that she is allergic then we'll need to do a gut biopsy and it will be easier to confirm damage to the gut if Amber's been eating normally before."

I'm pretty sure I saw Amber get paler at the word "biopsy" so I take her out of my mother's arms and put my own arm around her.

"Ok, understood." I say. "Thank you for doing this on such short notice, mom."

"Yeah, grandma." Amber agrees quietly. "Thanks."

My mom waves of out thanks and hugs Amber hard before reaching her cheek out for me to kiss. Amber and I make it out to the waiting car. We don't speak until Taylor has started driving and Amber is the first one to utter any words.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was sick."

"So am I" I tell her and decide that I'm going to let things go for once. God knows why.

Amber seems to be waiting for me to start yelling at her or something but eventually when I don't she seems to relax slightly. However, she can't seem to refrain from asking:

"Are you mad?"

"Nope." I say. "Let's just wait for the results and take it from there. But I still think you should go for rice and not noodles if we get Chinese."

I wink at her and she smiles.

"Deal"


	34. Chapter 34

_**Ana**_

"Well Miss Steele, I think this counts as success." I jump at the sound of Christian's voice; I hadn't even noticed that he'd come to stand beside me. We are in the bar area of the huge party venue by the river. Music is being heard from all over and it's a miracle that Christian manages to cut through it all without even seeming to raise his voice. I turn and look at him. He looks more like a rock star than anyone in the room, myself definitely included, and yet he's hardly wearing anything he might not put on any normal day of. Worn converste, dark tight jeans, white t-shirt and black leather jacket. Hair a mess as usual and a pair of expensive shades pushed up on his head. Myself I got ready with Amber and she turned me into some sort of punk-rocker I believe. All I know is that the checkered pants I'm wearing are very tight. I can feel Christian's eyes on me and I blush.

"Yeah, you're right" I say after clearing my throat. "Everyone seems to love it and Kate for one was definitely over the moon. Amber's idea with all the groupies was brilliant."

"The whole idea with this kind of thing worked out well for sure." Christian says and gazes across the room before shaking his head slightly and turning to grin at me. "Drink, Anastasia?"

"Please" I follow him to the bar where a young guy is just serving some people margaritas.

"What can I get you?" The guy turns to us with a big smile. He looks to be in his early twenties. His broad smile fades however when he sees Christian and I notice the frown on the latter's face.

"I know you" Christian mutters. "But I don't remember where from."

The guy is starting to look seriously nervous and I keep my eyes on Christian, confused. Suddenly he snaps his fingers.

"I remember" He says and his voice is harsh. "You're one of the lowlifes who gave my daughter alcohol a few months ago. What's your name?"

"Phil, sir." The guy says and I'm impressed that he can keep his voice and his gaze so steady under Christian's gray death stare.

"I think I'm going to go." I mumble as Christian's eyes narrow but he grasps my hand.

"Please stay, Ana" Then he says to Phil: "So you're also the one who came to my apartment, am I right?"

Just a nod from Phil this time. I'm thankful nobody else is at the bar right now.

"So" Christian's voice is ice cool. "Have you seen her tonight?"

Phil doesn't respond immediately and when he does it's with hesitation in his voice:

"She was here with her friend earlier, got a few drinks." Then he adds quickly: "Nothing alcoholic, of course."

"Oh really?" Christian narrows his eyes. "Well, I don't think you're to be trusted not to serve minors. Not that there are many here tonight apart from Amber and Audrey but that's quite enough. You're fired."

The shock is written all over Phil's face but then he quickly composes himself and says:

"Well, Mr. Grey, with all due respect; I'm not hired by you. I'm a summer employee for the catering company tonight."

"Which I own." Christian snaps. "Get away"

"Christian." I can't just be a bystander anymore. "Don't be unreasonable. Who's going to manage the bar if Phil suddenly disappears? And shouldn't you check on Amber and Audrey before making any rash decisions?"

Christian stares at me, looking completely furious but I won't budge. He's being completely ridiculous.

"Fine" He mutters eventually and steps away without another word, most likely to go and find his daughter. I turn to Phil.

"Sorry about that" I tell him. "I'm sure it will be fine once Christian finds that you didn't give the girls any alcohol. Presuming you didn't, of course."

"I didn't. They didn't even ask for any."

"Then you have nothing to worry about." I force a smile. With Christian there's always something to worry about.

I get a beer from Phil even though I don't like it. There are people around sipping on red and white wine but I would just feel silly with these pants on. Suddenly, Christian is back and his face is red with fury.

"YOU" He shouts, pointing at Phil. "Get out of here now. I just spoke to your manager, someone else will be here shortly. Leave."

"But..." Phil stutters. "What's the problem?"

"I found Amber _throwing up _in the bathroom, with Audrey holding her hair and giggling all through it." Christian looks about ready to explode. "They are clearly inebriated. You are clearly fired. Fuck off."

"Oh god." I say with a light sigh as Phil quickly gathers his things and clears out, a confused look playing on his face.

"I'm sorry Ana" Christian sighs. "I'll have to leave. Amber is waiting with Taylor in the car, she won't get out of this easy either. You stay and enjoy the party, I shall call you shortly."

"Can I help in any way?" I ask. "Is Amber all right?"

"She will be" Christian mutters through clenched teeth and then suddenly leans over, grasping my head and kissing me passionately. "But I'd be worried if I were _you. _I'm far from thrilled with how you undermined me in front of that boy."

"What will you do about it?" I ask breathlessly, feeling that clench deep in my stomach.

"We shall see." Christian smirks at me before releasing my chin. "Until next time, Miss Steele."

"Bye, Christian." I look after him as he walks out to care for his daughter.

Everything inside me is screaming, wondering when that next time will be and wanting it to be now.

…

_**Christian**_

I get in the car and slam the door hard and tell Taylor to drive. Amber flinches where she is.

"Where's Audrey?" She asks.

"I sent her home." I snap. "Sawyer's driving her."

"I'm sorry" Amber sighs. "I was going to get you but then I started feeling sick, I don't know why..."

"Because you and your friend decided it was good to get some idiot to give you alcohol, that's why." I interrupt her and she frowns.

"No" She says. "Who?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Amber." I tell her sternly. "Your friend Phil."

"He didn't give us alcohol!" Amber bursts out. "He would never!"

"He's done it before"

"That wasn't him" Amber protests. "It was his friend that he doesn't even like."

Where does she think she's going with this? She's overstepped the line, big time.

"I think we've had this discussion, Amber" I say. "You're simply not allowed to drink, it's a stupid habit and I won't have you doing it until you're twenty-one and even then it will not be a good idea to actually get to the point where you _throw up."_

"But I'm not drunk, dad!" Amber sounds as if she's nearly going to cry. "Can you at least let me tell you the whole story?"

I sit back and cross my arms over my chest, looking at her to prompt her to speak even though I seriously doubt that there's anything she can say to make me believe her right now.

"I got Audrey and me some sodas from the bar, talked to Phil but not a lot." Amber starts. "I didn't know he'd be working there but he's apparently home for the summer now. Anyway, I made it back to Audrey and she had this flask. I have no idea where or who she got it from, I swear. I told her that she shouldn't drink but it's not like I'm her parent or anything. So she just kept drinking from it and got... You know, like. How she was."

"Drunk." I snap.

"Yeah." Amber mumbles. "I know she's had like a hard time lately because her grandfather is in the hospital and I... kind of knew how she felt. So I figured if it made her feel better I shouldn't stop her. Then she got really drunk and I went outside with her. I was going to go and find you but then I felt sick and had to run to the bathroom. Audrey just sort of followed because she wanted to help."

Seriously? Is that her fucking story? My daughter must think I'm stupid.

"Even if I believed you" I tell Amber after a moment of silence. "I'd still be furious with you for not getting me, or any adult for that matter, the second you saw Audrey had smuggled alcohol with her. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I don't know" Amber mumbles. "Dad please, do we have to talk about it now? My head hurts and I'm still feeling sick."

"Depends on the reason you're sick" I say harshly. "We'll find out soon enough and if you're simply drunk I'll tell you everything I have to say tonight and tomorrow and every day I need to for it to stick."

"I haven't been drinking" A couple of tears run down Amber's cheeks as she looks out the window and I nearly step back, thinking that it doesn't matter. But it does, I then realize as anger springs up in me again. No daughter of mine will endanger herself like this, not to mention endanger her friends. Taylor stops the car at the Escala garage. He knows what I want since I told him earlier and hands me the car key as soon as we're both out. I take Amber's arm and get her out of the car before giving the key to her and opening the driver's seat. This car has an alcohol lock and nobody can drive if if they have even a drop of alcohol in their system. I cock my head at the seat for Amber to sit down and she does, confused.

"Put the key in the ignition" I order her and she does, after going through some trouble to find it. "Turn" I then tell her and she obeys.

I feel like a fucking idiot when the car growls and starts. She was telling the truth. What kind of father am I? Amber never lies to me, why would I think she'd start now?  
"Ok, Amber." I sigh. "Thank you."

She gets out of the car and practically throws the key at me.

"Did I pass your stupid test?" She asks and I nod. "Can I go to bed now then?"

She is almost shouting and she's blinking away the tears. I don't know what to say so I just nod again. Amber stomps off towards the elevator and steps in, followed by Taylor. I wave at the latter to give my approval that they go up to the penthouse without me. Taylor will send it back down and I'll go after.

…

"_Amber" I sigh as I look up from my Blackberry. "Stop playing around with your food and eat it."_

_While I've managed to finish the lasagna Mrs. Jones had put in the freezer for us as well as sent four e-mails on my phone, my four-year-old daughter appears to have spent the last fifteen minutes cutting her share into as many little pieces she could._

"_Not hungry" Amber mutters and pushes her plate away from her. "I can't eat."_

"_You will eat." I tell her firmly._

_My mother has alerted me of the fact that my daughter has been fussy with food lately, all of a sudden refusing to eat certain things and sometimes hunger striking all together. I will have none of that shit._

"_No, daddy." Amber tells me in the same tone I used with her. On such a young child it sounds quite funny but Amber doesn't seem happy when I smirk._

"_Don't laugh at me!" She whines. "My tummy hurts."_

"_Should I believe that?" I raise an eyebrow at Amber, who is pouting with a single tear running down her cheek. "Amber, just eat half of your food and we'll be done so you can go and play for half an hour until bedtime."_

"_I don't wanna play"_

_I'm getting quite frustrated with Amber's whining. She'll have to be careful._

"_Ok, I'll count to three and then you will pick up your fork again" I say and get to it straight away. "One... two..."_

_Amber picks up her fork and holds it for a couple of second before she looks briefly at me. Then she throws it on the ground. I simply stare at her for a moment, only to have her stare back. Eventually her lip starts to tremble slightly and I rise, get the fork and throw it in the sink before I get her a new one. I set it out next to Amber's plate and then yank her up by her arms so she stands on her chair. I give her pajama-clad bottom one single but sharp swat and she whimpers. I sit her down firmly and sit back on my own chair. _

"_You don't throw things, especially not sharp heavy objects such as forks." I tell her. "Do you understand?"_

"_Yes" she mumbles._

"_Will you eat your food now?"_

_Amber just nods and starts eating, making the procedure look like something utterly painful for her to do. Jesus, is she like this with Sandrine as well? After just a few bites, Amber lays her fork down again._

"_I can't" She says with tears in her eyes._

"_Why ever not?" I sigh._

_Amber answers straight away but not with words. Her face simply turns green and I finally realize what the problem is._

"_Oh, god." I murmur. "Ok baby, come on."_

_I lift Amber up and carry her as fast as I can to the closest bathroom, just around the corner from the kitchen area and we barely make it to the toilet before she starts throwing up. Her tiny coughs as she does so are quite heartbreaking. I hold her flurry of soft hair back from her face until she just dry heaves, which seems to exhaust her little body completely, making her shake and tremble like a fucking leaf. Finally there seems to be no more and, utterly spent, Amber leans back on me. She starts crying and I hold her awkwardly, feeling like a shit. Even more so when I feel her forehead and realize she has a good fever. How the hell didn't I notice she was sick? This just proves what I already knew, I'm not fit to be a father._

…

_After I clean her up and help her get into new pajamas I bring Amber back to my bed, something that's never happened before. But I won't have her sleeping on her own and her children's bed is far too small for the two of us. I do have a flatscreen behind two big cabinet doors facing my bed so once I've settled Amber in bed I put on The Lion King which I believe is currently her favorite. Even I'll admit that it's surprisingly endurable. Not that it matters much at the moment however, because Amber is asleep within minutes.I turn the television off and dim the lights down further. I sit down at the bedside and look at the sleeping little girl._

"_Just our luck, huh?" I mumble to her sleeping figure. "You getting sick with grandma and grandpa in France and Sandrine off with her Armand. Not even Mrs. J here for you."_

_Amber stirs in her sleep and clutches her beloved pillow. I stroke her silk soft curls until I'm confident she's sleeping soundly enough for me to go off and get some work done. I'm still feeling like a shit._

…

_The next day Amber is somewhat better but still weak and looking slightly nauseous all the time. According to my mother though, whom I've finally gotten on the phone, it's just a stomach flu that should pass in a few days. I'm completely clueless of what to do however. No fucking clue. Amber sleeps most of the day luckily but around four in the afternoon I know I cannot let her go without food anymore. So I make about the only thing I can actually cook which is macaroni and cheese. I take it to her where she is still, in my bed, and help her eat some while we make a new attempt at The Lion King. Amber eats slowly and tiredly, small mouthfuls but she has almost half the bowl I've prepared which I accept (this once). I put the rest away into the kitchen and sit with Amber again, my laptop on it's custom-made cushion resting on my lap. I'll admit that The Lion King is quite clever; I believe it's supposed to be the Disney version of Hamlet. When it gets to the part where the little lion prince finds his father dead I glance over at Amber. Surely she's a bit small for this kind of thing still? But she seems to understand. Solemnly and very focused she keeps her tired feverish eyes on the screen; they look a little shiny to me and I'm not sure what that's from. Amber suddenly turns her look to me._

"_Daddy?" She says in a voice so serious that it sounds almost comical coming from such a small child. _

"_Yes?"_

"_When I was littler I thought you were like Scar and uncle Elliot were like Mufasa."_

"_Oh, really?" I ask cautiously, knowing Scar is the evil brother._

"_Yes" Amber nod solemnly. "Because you have dark hair and uncle Elliot has yellow hair."_

_Oh, that's her reasoning. I must say I'm relieved._

"_But I don't think that anymore."_

"_No?"_

"_No" Amber shakes her tired head slowly. "Because I would be sadder if you died. Simba is really sad. But then when Scar dies he's not sad at all. I would be sad if Uncle Elliot died but even sadder if you died. Even sadder than Simba because I would cry for longer and my heart would hurt."_

_It's quite possibly the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me. I put my laptop aside._

"_Come here, you." I say quietly to Amber and lift her onto my lap. "Thank you for saying that, sweetheart."_

_I kiss the top of her head and she leans into my chest, keeping her eyes on the television and clutching her beloved pillow. I wrap my arms around her, feeling a bit like a protective lion myself as we watch the rest of the movie in silence._

…

**I'm sorry for the wait! Hope you liked this chapter and forgive me typing errors and other silliness that will most likely be there. Probably not my best chapter but do let me know what you think! I love reading your amazing reviews and thank you so much for your wonderful words on the last chapter.**


	35. Chapter 35

_**Amber**_

Luckily I don't feel very sick anymore when I get into my room and slam the door shut (have to take the opportunity before dad gets in). I must have just eaten something weird maybe. But my head is throbbing and I feel so freaking angry. Why can't my dad ever trust anything I say? He just judges me and judges me and just decides that I'm some unreliable teenage girl with issues. I might as well be if that's how he's always going to treat me; I might as well drink and lie and whatever. Angrily, I wipe my tears of with the back of my hand as I get into the bathroom and rip the stupid clothes off before I shove them in the wash basket. I feel a panic attack coming and I do my best to breathe as I brush my teeth and wash my face. It doesn't help much I go back into my room and put on my trickiest Pjs, trying to methodically button the cotton shirt before putting on the shorts. It doesn't help much either and I feel the tears coming as I gasp for air. I get the emergency paper bag out of my desk drawer and start breathing into it, even though it makes me feel like an idiot. The tears keep streaming. There's a brief knock on the door.

"Amber?"

"Go away!" I shout into the paper bag. It sounds quite muffled, totally weird. I should have made more of an effort to sound normal. Crap.

"What the hell is going on?" Dad bursts in and sees me where I am on the floor, leaning against my bed and breathing into a brown paper bag. "Jesus christ, Amber!"

Dad quickly moves over to me and crouches down before me. It helps that he's here because I forget about the panic and just get back to anger instead. I remove the bag from my face and glare at dad.

"I didn't say you could come in." I say through clenched teeth, trying to keep my breathing calm and probably sounding Darth Vader because I'm breathing through my nose.

"Too bad for you I own this apartment." Dad snaps back. "Keep breathing in the bag."

I look down at my naked feet. They feel a bit cold so I scrunch my toes up to try and bury them in the carpet.

"I'm sorry." Dad sighs. "That was a stupid thing to say. I was just worried. Please keep breathing in your bag, I don't want you to have a panic."

"I don't need the fucking bag." I mutter because I don't.

"Ok then."

Oh my god, dad's actually backing off! He didn't even tell me to watch my language. We sit in silence for a few moments.

"I'm so sorry Amber" Dad eventually says. I keep my eyes on my feet.

"Whatever" I mumble after a while.

"No" Dad says friercly. "Not whatever, I made a mistake and I really am very sorry. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt."

Yeah? No shit, dad. I feel the tears trickle down my face.

"Please look at me, Amber"

It takes me I don't know how long, but eventually I do. Dad looks tired and he seems to have been running his hand through his hair quite a lot. He's gazing at me with a frown.

"Please forgive me."

This feels awkward. I'm so unused to dad apologizing to me at all. I feel my eyes flicker but I sort of nod and shrug.

"Okay?" Dad asks.

"Yeah." I murmur.

Dad leans down and kisses my head.

"You still feeling sick?" He asks.

I should have known that was coming.

"Not as much" I shake my head. "I probably just ate something bad."

"Like gluten." Dad frowns again.

"I hope not." I sigh. "I don't want to be allergic to pasta and bread."  
"You can still eat pasta and bread" Dad says. "It will just need to be gluten free. There are plenty of options and lots of people do actually chose to live gluten-free for health reasons."

I shrug. I still don't want some weird allergy.

"Anyway" Dad says. "We'll wait for the test results and handle it when we get there."

I lean my head back against the bedside and close my eyes.

"I'm tired." I say.

"I understand that." Dad says and rises. "I'll let you sleep. Do you need anything?"

I rise and crawl into my bed.

"My head kind of hurts." I admit. "And I'm feeling kind of sick again"

"I'll get you some Advil." Dad announces and turns to leave. In the doorway he stops and turns around, looking a bit out of place all of a sudden. "I love you Amber."

I feel myself blushing, feeling a bit embarrassed by all this sentimental stuff.

"Yeah." I murmur and glance at dad. "Love you too."

Which, even with him being seriously annoying and horrible, I kind of really do.

…

The next thing I know, I wake up from nausea. I really, really hate that. Bare acknowledging the fact that I seem to be sweating like a pig, I tumble out of bed and don't quite make it all the way to the toilet. The bathtub will need to do. Disgusting. I throw up and throw up and it's only after a while that I realize that something is running down my legs. Oh, shit! Literally. I nearly start crying and my stomach is hurting so badly but I still push of my pajama pants and soiled panties and notice that I haven't made much difference; they were already soaked with my sweat. So disgusting it makes me want to throw up again so I do. Then I mop the floor with my pajamas, making sure there's no sign of anything. Then I throw them away, just push them down the trash. I run the water in the bathtub in hopes that my vomit, which is mostly gall and fluid anyway, will disappear on its own. I step into the shower and turn it on, letting it flush over me. I'm so tired I don't even have the energy to stand, much less wash myself. I take my shower cream and squirt pretty much the whole bottle all over myself. Then I just sit there. I can't stand just yet. I'll just close my eyes for a bit...

…

Pounding.

"AMBER! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"

Oh, I must have fallen asleep. The water is still flushing over my body, hot water. I hold onto the towel rack just outside the shower as I push myself up. It's tiring. I take my warm bath robe and put it on before I notice that I left the bath on. I turn the shower off and let go of the rack before I step towards the tub. I feel weird. I glance at myself in the mirror over the sink and in during the microsecond I'm still standing I notice that I look really yellow. Then everything is black.

…

I wake up again and hear traffic. I blink and open my eyes slowly to see the car ceiling. We're in the car.

"Amber, thank god." Dad is leaning over me; my head is on his lap. "Sweetheart."

"What happened?" I croak and try to sit up but dad holds me down.

"You fainted." He says and puts a hand on my forehead. "And you're practically burning up so we're going to the hospital. Your grandmother is waiting for us. Taylor will get us there faster than an ambulance."

"Oh." I close my eyes again, feeling so tired.

"Amber, stay with me!" Dad says.

I realize he's speaking quite loudly but his voice still sounds so distant.

"What?" I mumble.

"Try to stay awake baby, it's important." Dad says.

"I was just closing my eyes." I force the words. "Not sleeping." I do it again and this time dad snaps his fingers above my face.

"No, I need you to focus. Keep your eyes open."

I blink up at him. Suddenly, without my being able to control it, tears well out of my eyes.

"Why don't you believe me? It's not fair!" I start sobbing and dad looks grim as he strokes my hair, which makes me even sadder. "What did I do, what did I do, what did I do?" I blabber and barely realize that we've reached the hospital and that dad is carrying me. I just keep crying like a baby and rest my head on his chest. Then I hear grandma's voice and in spite of dad yelling in the background I go back to sleep.

…

_**Christian**_

I'm sitting by Amber's bedside, waiting for her to wake up. It's six in the morning and she's in a deep sleep. Poor baby, she really needs it. She has an IV stuck to her and my mother has run all kinds of new tests and finally come to the conclusion that Amber has some very rare bacteria that's caused an infection. How the fuck she got the bacteria is beyond me but according to my mother it can happen however. Something she ate when we were in New York seems to be the most likely and I'll certainly have a serious talk with Mia about what the hell they use in her restaurant. Amber was very badly dehydrated when she finally got in, which is why she's now attached to the IV. She'll be put on penicillin for ten days, strong fucking shit as well which will probably make her feel even sicker. I run my hand through my hair. I have so many meetings coming up over the next few weeks, some of which will take place out of town. I'll have to sort something out so I can spend as much time at home as possible. I wake up from my thoughts when Amber starts to stir and lets out a small moan. She blinks a couple of times before she opens her eyes completely, squinting slightly even thought the light is very dim.

"Hey, sweetheart" I say softly.

"Hey" Amber's voice is tired and hoarse. "What happened?"

"You passed out" I tell her. "And you were completely delirious with fever. It's gone down now but the doctors had to give you an ice bath."

"Ew" Amber frowns and I let out something that's half snort, half laugh before I'm serious again.

"Jesus Amber, I can't believe that I didn't see this coming. I should have checked your temperature when I came back with your Advil and you were asleep"

Amber shrugs.

"It's not your fault."

"I'm you father." I say sharply. "It's my job to look after you."

Amber doesn't respond to that and I suddenly understand that she's probably thinking about what it used to be like, when her grandparents were the ones to look after her.

"So what's wrong with me then?" Amber suddenly asks.

"Some bacteria infection, what the bacteria is called you'll need to ask you grandmother." I explain. "But you'll be on antibiotics for ten days, and don't expect to get out of bed in at least three of them."

Amber looks depressed at the thought and I add:

"But on the bright side you can have as much pasta and bread as you like."

She cracks a small smile and I stroke her hair.

"God, you scared me." I tell her. "You should go back to sleep; it's only six o'clock. Would you like me to put the television on?"

"Yeah, thanks"

I reach for the remote and once the plasma screen alights I scroll through the channels until Amber stops me at some program. It's some television series that I've never seen and that I frankly, I realize after five minutes, I find quite dull. But Amber seems to enjoy it and at the moment, that's all that matters.

…

**My apologies for delay, mistakes and for not proof reading yet again.. Hope you enjoyed it anyway, please leave a review and as always: THANK YOU for reading and supporting and suggesting!**


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